


Agni's Providence

by GoodMorningInc



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Asexual Zuko (Avatar), Azula (Avatar) is A Good Sibling, Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Torture, Iroh loves his dead gay son, Iroh's Dubious Parenting, Lesbian Azula (Avatar), Let Toph Say Fuck, Lu Ten had a boyfriend, No beta we die like the 41st Division, Non-Permanent Character Death, Ozai's A+ Parenting, Pheonix-dragon Zuko, Shapeshifter Zuko, The Gang is rightfully concerned about Zuko's mental health, Toph Beifong & Zuko Friendship, Ursa's A+ Parenting, Zhao (Avatar) Is An Asshole, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Zuko can't die, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, and immortal ace nephew, and living lesbian niece, and that changes a person, but she's also a good daughter, he just gives Ozai too many chances to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29268720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodMorningInc/pseuds/GoodMorningInc
Summary: Azulon saw the dragon in his grandson as a sign that his reign and his descendants’ reign shall be long and prosperous.Iroh saw the phoenix in his nephew as a sign that the war would be ending in his lifetime and a new era would be approaching not long after.Ursa saw the tiny down feathers along her child's back and the small black scales scattered down her son’s fragile arms and cried because she knew that her husband would see her child as a token towards victory; as a beast to be conquered to appease his ego.They were all right.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Lu Ten & Zuko, Lu Ten/Original Male Character(s), Sokka & Suki & Zuko, Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Zhao/Bottom of the Ocean
Comments: 62
Kudos: 333





	1. Watching the Room

A soul-piercing scream rang throughout the castle as people rushed to action. Cookware clattered loudly in the kitchens. Heavy footfalls thundered down the halls as a flurry of servants rushed to fulfill their duties. Handmaids bumped into one another rounding corners. Messengers raced up and down the stairs with the royal scribes in the hopes of sending an urgent message to Prince Ozai with a hurried announcement: The Lady Ursa was in labor! 

Observing the commotion was a young serving girl named Li Mei. While Li Mei had only recently been hired as a tea server, she had never seen the castle this frantic before. Lady Ursa had been screaming for hours and she wasn’t sure what to do. She hurried to the head steward, Yee, to find out where she needed to be. Yee was an older man, kind and patient yet strict with his instructions. He looked at the young Li Mei hastily shuffling towards him. 

“What’s to be done, sir?” She asked, her small frame trembled slightly with nervous energy. Yee smiled at the girl and placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Do not fret, child. It’s alright. In fact, this is a joyous occasion.” He pointed to two large wooden doors down the hall. Li Mei knew that room led to Lady Ursa’s bed chambers. She also knew that that room was where the screams were coming from.

“What’s happening, sir?” She glanced around the hall and spotted two women rushing towards the room Yee had pointed towards. She recognized one of the women as Izumi and the other as Ming, and remembered hearing a while ago that both were hired as Lady Ursa’s midwives. 

“A member of the royal family will be born tonight! Everyone is doing their part to help Mistress Ursa throughout this process.” Li Mei startled something bumped into her. She turned around to see two men carrying a large wooden basin filled with sloshing water. 

“Careful with that!” Yee scolded. 

“Forgive us, sir, miss,” one of the men bowed to both of them. “We were instructed to take this to the midwives as soon as possible.” And with that, they quickly waddled into Lady Ursa’s room as carefully as possible. 

With a tired sigh, Yee turned back to Li Mei. “Miss Li Mei,” he offered her a small smile. “Head down to the kitchens, prepare some Ginseng tea, and bring it to Lady Ursa’s chambers. Make sure to also bring a pitcher of cool water. Bring enough for the Lady and the midwives. When the Fire Sages enter the room, offer them tea as well. Hurry, child.”

Li Mei nodded. Once dismissed, she went about her tasks. Entering the kitchen, she could tell the cooks were more tense than normal. She could hear a few servants in passing quietly offer prayers to Agni for a safe delivery. But beyond that, the kitchens were unsettlingly silent of all conversation. Most of the facial expressions were stoic and determined. Those that weren’t seemed to have a waned smile, as if the joy was off-kilter at the moment. Li Mei hoped it was because they were all focused on their tasks, but they all knew the truth.

Tonight was a bad omen for a birth.

The Fire Nation possessed a rich and prosperous history and belief system. They were a proud people, poised and distinguished with a deep devotion to the sun spirit, Agni. They knew that the Fire Nation royal family had long ago been appointed by Agni to lead the country to thrive. Their people rose with the sun and traveled by the sun; they gained strength in the summer and weakened in the winter.

Therefore the implications of a Fire Nation royal being born in the dead of the night during the Winter Solstice filled the servants with nervous trepidation. Li Mei didn’t want to say anything. As she prepared the tea, she looked around at the rest of the staff and she saw that no one wanted to say anything either. 

_Was this an omen?_ They all thought. _A message from Agni? Was the message one of anger? Disappointment?_ No one wanted to ask but everyone feared the answer.

She jolted out of her thoughts as the kettle shrieked and carefully prepared the tea. Once every teacup was filled and covered, they were placed on a tray along with a pitcher of cool water with attentive care. With as much grace as she could muster, Li Mei calmly walked down the halls to Lady Ursa’s door. The screams had quieted down at this point. She assumed that the worse of it was over. Approaching the door, she spotted two guards observing her. She bowed.

“I’ve brought tea for the Lady. And some water as well,” she said to the guards. They looked to one another, nodded, and opened the doors for her.

She bowed once more, then made her way into the room. Looking around, she saw a lavish bedroom, grand and exuberant. The room was the size of her parents’ home back in the city. Fine silks and tapestries and scrolls and play masks inundated her vision almost at an overwhelming level. Deep reds, vibrant oranges, and shimmering golds surrounded the room. The air wafted a faint, yet tender smell of lavender around her. She had never seen a room so luxurious before in her life. But that wasn’t the point of this visit, she reminded herself. Li Mei looked to the gilded bed in the far end of the room. There she saw Lady Ursa cradling a swaddled mass in her arms. Izumi was attending to her, while Ming wrung out a soaked rag from a wood basin, their bodies tense and faces morose. Li Mei walked silently to the bedside table and quietly placed the tray on top. She bowed deeply to the Lady, even though the woman hadn’t acknowledged her. And so, she went about her duties and passed out the cups to the midwives. They stared at her uneasy with stilted nods, as if not fully aware of their surroundings. Once both women accepted the offering, she turned to her Lady and offered a cup as well.

“Tea, ma’am?” Li Mei asked. Ursa did not respond. She only stared at the wrapped bundle in her arms. Though her expression was neutral, Li Mei knew that something was wrong. Her lips were slightly tinged downward. Her eyes a little too wide and uncertain. _Did she not want any tea,_ she pondered to herself. She was then suddenly made aware of how eerily quiet the room was.

A baby had just been born, yet the room was silent. No crying, no whimpering, nothing but the soft clatter of teacups. What was wrong? Was the baby —

Before the thought had fully formed, she was brought back to awareness by Ursa turning to look right at her. The movement caused the swaddled clothes in her arms to move as well, allowing Li Mei to see the baby’s face. She gasped.

Two piercing golden eyes stared at her unblinking with predator-like focus. Without even moving, they pinned her down and dug their talons into her soul and she felt fear. She had never known this deep, unbridled dread until this very moment. Her chest was burning. Her hands ached. Her eyes stung. She was dying. Was she already dead?

And then the eyes blinked and looked away. And then she blinked and she could breathe again. The baby was looking at Ursa. Ursa was looking at Li Mei. Li Mei was looking at the baby. After a calming breath, she looked at Lady Ursa and knew that her mistress had seen and felt the same fear and death that she did. She looked to Ming and Izumi and recognized the look as well. Exhaling once more, she dared to take a second look at the child.

From what Li Mei could see, the baby was…healthy? They were silently staring at their mother with a fierce intensity, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The cloth shuffled once again as the infant wiggled a chubby arm out to touch their mother’s face. Lady Ursa wasn’t the only person who gasped at the sight before them.

The baby’s pale arm was bespeckled with small black scales. The scales poked out of the skin like iridescent scabs randomly scattered along the surface of their arm. The infant’s tiny fingers didn’t have nails so much as they possessed little black claws protruding out. The talons gently touched Ursa’s chin before retracting back into fingernails. The child still had yet to make a sound.

Before anyone could comment on what they’d witnessed, a knocking sound filled the room. The four women turned to the door. Ursa looked to Ming, who looked to Izumi only to receive a cautious shrug. Li Mei watched as Ming turned back to the Lady and nodded hesitantly.

“Come in,” Ursa declared with a clearing of the throat. The doors opened and a man bowed deeply and walked in. Based on his regal garbs and headdress, Li Mei recognized him to be a Fire Sage. He looked cold and stoic (and certainly not someone a new mother would want to talk to after giving birth if you asked Li Mei). The stern-looking man approached Lady Ursa and bowed once again.

“Good evening, Lady Ursa.” The man rose from his bow and regarded her with an expression Li Mei didn’t recognize. “I am Shou. I was appointed by the High Sage to examine the young heir.” Ursa nods.

“First order of business,” he continued, “will be the child’s name.”

Li Mei watched as Ursa looked down at her newborn. The baby looked back at her. The young server could tell that this time the baby’s eyes were soft and welcoming. Ursa did not feel fear or pain looking at her child and the Lady smiled lovingly, holding her baby close.

“Zuko,” Ursa spoke. “His name will be Zuko.”

Fire Sage Shou turned his head to a man standing behind him that Li Mei hadn’t noticed come in. The man opened a scroll and began to write in it.

“Prince Zuko,” Shou responded. “Son of Prince Ozai and Lady Ursa, prince of the Fire Nation and h—” Shou stopped abruptly. The four women and the scribe looked at the Sage, but Shou was staring at the young prince. 

The prince who was staring back at the man. The prince, whose cold stare burned bright with something too immeasurable to describe. Like a fire that burned so hot, it felt cold. Li Mei noticed that the young Prince Zuko seemed to be growing small patches of black iridescent scales around his eyes, making the golden hue of his irises shine even brighter.

The Fire Sage and scribe both stepped back in confused fear. After a moment of silent tension, Sage Shou appeared to regain his decorum and cleared his throat. 

“Forgive me, ma’am. May I continue my examination of the prince?” He held out his hands as if to summon the babe into his arms. Ursa stared at the man apprehensively.

“What will you do exactly,” she demanded. Li Mei noticed that it was less of a question and more fitted of a warning.

“Do not worry, my dear.” A familiar voice drew her eye to the doorway. There she saw the Fire Lord and Prince Iroh walk into the room. Li Mei and the other servants bowed. Fire Lord Azulon glided over to the Fire Sage’s side and spoke tenderly. “There is no need for fear, for you are safe in these chambers.”

“My lord,” Ursa shifted forward in the bed, one arm supporting her child, the other readying her sore body to bow.

“Peace, my child,” Azulon spoke. He rose a wrinkled hand to mollify her movement. “For this moment is a joyous occasion. Allow your body to rest.”

Iroh smiled calmly and walked over to the distraught mother, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. “It is alright, Ursa. It is tradition that newborns of the royal bloodline be seen by the sacred Fire Sages to determine whether they possess the light of Agni. No harm shall befall you or your child.”

Though it remained unspoken, it did not escape anyone’s attention that Fire Prince Ozai was not in attendance for his son’s birth or examination.

Ursa reluctantly handed her son over to her brother-in-law. Prince Iroh's eyes widened upon seeing the boy’s eyes and scales but ultimately smiled kindly at his nephew. Right before he was about to pass the young child to the Sage, Li Mei watched him pause. As one hand supported the babe’s weight, the other moved up and down the boy’s back in a circular motion. The hand stopped around where the child’s shoulder blades should be. Prince Iroh looked puzzled for a moment before he began to unwrap the swaddled boy from the cloth. The serving girl was confused until she noticed the small feathered wings flapped from where they jutting out of the young prince’s back.

Li Mei was scared and confused. What did all of this mean? She heard three sharp inhales from the Sage, Prince Iroh, and the Fire Lord. Fire Sage Shou hurried to the baby in Prince Iroh’s arms.

“A phoenix-dragon born!” Shou cried out in exuberance. “What blessings Agni has brought the Fire Nation this night!”

“A _what_ -dragon?” Iroh looked startled and confused.

“A phoenix-dragon. The most rare and elusive breed of dragon to exist in the world! They not only possess all of the strength and abilities of a dragon but also resilient in their inability to permanently die! Like a phoenix!”

“So,” the prince pondered, “would someone who is phoenix-dragon born experience the same degree of immortality?”

The Fire Sage somehow looked equal parts pensive and animated as he contemplated the question. “I would presume so. However, the only way to be certain would be to test it.”

Li Mei saw the brief look of terror and rage on Lady Ursa’s face, before it simmered back into neutral, as Sage Shou spoke. _Perhaps talking about potentially killing a newborn in proximity to that child’s mother wasn’t the best approach,_ she thought. _Perhaps talking about killing a newborn, in general, wasn’t the best approach either._

The Fire Sage must have seen the Lady’s expression as well because he winced slightly and avoided her eyes. “Though, I, uh, wouldn’t recommend this course of action, of course.”

Fire Lord Azulon hummed. “Tell us, Sage, you spoke of Agni’s blessings. What exactly does that entail?”

“My Lord, it is known that spirits can often leave the Spirit World and wander into the physical plane.” Seeing Azulon’s nod, he continued. “However, in very rare occasions, a spirit may select an individual to be their Chosen. An embodiment of that spirit’s wishes or an envoy to accomplish a certain task.”

“Like the Avatar?” Azulon’s eyes narrowed, frown stern. Shou tensed and grimaced slightly before smoothing into a neutral expression. 

“Not quite, my Lord. The Avatar is the designated bridge between the Spirit World and the humans. They would be linked to — and therefore representing — all spirits, regardless of familiarity. An individual who has been Spirit-touched will only have a connection to that specific spirit. These select few would also be given defining features reminiscent of the spirit that blessed them. Something the Avatar does not possess.”

Prince Iroh hummed. “So,” the Prince began. “you are certain that Lady Ursa’s son has been blessed by a spirit?”

“Not just any spirit, your highness, but by Agni himself!” And with that declaration, the room went still.

“…What do you mean?” The prince asked.

“The evidence of Agni’s blessing is obvious. Spirit-touched as he is, the boy is not fully human, but rather a hybrid of a human and a phoenix-dragon. An extremely rare and nigh-immortal creature that many presumed to be a myth. The sacred texts say that those who are dragon-born were the true children of Agni given form in the mortal realm.” The Sage stared incredulously at the boy. “Those who have been blessed by Agni before have possessed some dragon-like features, such as pointed ears or claw-like nails, but never to this degree. The scales, the claws, the wings, the eyes? Truly, the young prince has been bestowed a great blessing indeed.”

Li Mei could feel a fine line between appreciation and apprehension being toed within the boundaries of the bedchamber. Upon seeing the weight of understanding variously conveyed on everyone’s faces, the Sage re-wrapped the baby to prevent chill. The room was once again silent.

“And what of his spark?” Lord Azulon spoke.

Sage Shou looked startled by the question. “Pardon, my Lord?”

“Does he have a spark?” Lord Azulon demanded. “Is he a firebender?”

The Sage blinked in an almost incredulous daze before making a silent gesture to Prince Iroh to receive young Zuko. He stared at the boy for quite some time. 

Li Mei was not a firebender. She was not chosen by Agni to carry his flames. Nor did she fully understand what was happening in front of her. She was simply a humble tea server. But even she could recognize the blatant confusion and hesitation Sage Shou was show-casing on his face. His eyes widened, brow furrowed. Visible sweat slid down his temple. His eyes shifted, nervous and bewildered. This wasn’t the same fear and confusion she and the other women felt when staring into the young prince’s eyes before. This was different. Something wasn’t right.

Azulon seemed to have noticed this as well. “Speak,” he demanded.

“Forgive me, my lord,” the man deeply bowed, Zuko still in his grasp. “It’s just a bit confusing, you see. The boy is clearly favored by Agni, as the markings are quite visible. And yet… upon looking at his eyes, it seems that his spark is very small.”

“What?”

“Yes, my lord. I’ve never seen anything like this before. By all counts, he should have a tremendous aura with a bountiful well of chi.”

Azulon sighed, his face growing morose with bittersweet acceptance. “‘And yet’?”

“Forgive me, my lord.”

Azulon sighed once more. Iroh remained silent. His hand once again rested on the shoulder of his confused and scared sister-in-law.

“So he does not have the spark?” The Fire Lord asked.

“…For all intents and purposes, the young prince _should_ be a firebender.”

Could it be because of the timing of the birth?” Iroh interjected. “Firebenders’ sparks are weakened in the night and weakest in the winter.” He gazed out the closed window to see a full moon. “It is just past midnight during the Solstice. Perhaps his spark will be brighter once the sun rises.”

Sage Shou could only nod in response, but she could tell that he was unsure.

“And what does this mean for the Fire Nation?” Lord Azulon asked. And once more, Fire Sage Shou smiled broadly and confidently.

“My lord, your bloodline is truly blessed indeed. Regardless of this child possessing a spark, the great Agni has found favor with your lineage and a day of true glory shall soon be upon us. The phoenix-dragons are as wise and powerful as they are fierce and resilient. So too shall be your reign.”

And in that moment, perception of this child shifted in many directions. Each member of the royal family looked at Zuko and saw something unique and gained insight into the future. The Fire Lord smiled proudly. The Prince nodded in contemplation, and the Lady cried as silent as her son. Li Mei didn’t know what it all meant.

So it was on that night in the chambers of the Fire Lord’s castle, the now-sleeping newborn was christened Zuko: son Lady Ursa and Fire Prince Ozai, prince of the Fire Nation.

Li Mei bowed to the royals, handed them each a hot cup of Ginseng tea, and bowed out of the room leaving the pitcher of water behind. But as she walked back to the kitchens she thought of the silent tears that slid down the cheeks of a desperate mother’s face within the walls of the bedroom. And she thought of the proud citizens of the noble Fire Nation that rejoiced at the birth of their prince outside of the castle; not having met him, but already loving him.

But she continued to walk, not understanding Agni’s goal, but praying for the safety of the fragile young prince. Praying for Agni’s Chosen, praying for Agni’s omen. Praying for peace to remain in the Fire Nation. 

But something deep in the far reaches of her mind told her that dark days would be upon them soon.


	2. Ozai Signs His Own Death Warrant: An Anthology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Ozai wanted to know how hard he could push his son without facing repercussions. The palace staff wanted to know how hard they could push Prince Ozai down a flight of stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! The name “Zuko” can be translated to both “loved one” and “failure”. Which one do you think Ozai chose to interpret?
> 
> Also, CW: references and some depictions of violence against a child

Ozai had not been present for the birth and naming of his son. He had not considered it to be substantial or even remotely necessary. His brother clamored on and on about “miracles” and the “joys of childbirth” and “the duties of a father”, but he couldn’t care less. Ozai was the Prince of the Fire Nation. Princes do not flounce around amongst the servants and guards gossiping about a baby like Iroh did. If anything, a _true_ royal would stay focused on the proceedings of the war. 

He didn’t understand.

The child had been born on the night of the Winter Solstice, a clear omen of disaster. It was only a matter of time before the boy brought about Agni’s anger. Or maybe this _was_ Agni’s anger. Anger against the Fire Nation? Or perhaps against Ozai specifically? 

Preposterous.

But then he learned the truth. The boy was not cursed, quite the opposite. The child was apparently _chosen_ by the Sun Spirit, blessed with _gifts_ of claws and scales and wings. However, the status of his spark was undetermined. Ozai still held doubts about the boy, but hearing his progeny be praised as Agni’s Chosen did mitigate his temper.

He strode down the halls, a deep sigh rushed out his nostrils. A few days had passed since the birth and he had yet to meet his son. Perhaps now was the time to see what all of the fuss was about. Stepping into his wife’s bedchamber, he spotted Ursa lying under the blankets. Her face was pale and lifeless, hair flat and limp. She stared out the window in a vacant daze. He’d noticed that she seemed to grow less present in the world as the days passed by. But that wasn’t his concern. If she wanted to drown in her own thoughts for the rest of eternity, that was fine by him. As long as she continued to produce viable heirs, he didn’t care what that woman did with her time. The room reeked of plum blossom and lavender. Scented candles were strewn about the room, drenching the floor with puddles of liquid wax. He ignored his growing headache that stemmed from the odor and locked on to what he came here for. 

An embellished crib sat near the bed. He walked over and saw bright golden eyes, pupils slit vertically like a cobra-cat. Iridescent black scales bespeckled his face, arms, and chest. Small black claws sprung out and retracted back into his fingertips without rhyme or reason. Ozai’d heard mention of wings, but couldn’t see them from this angle.

He also couldn’t see a clear spark. He sighed again.

So, not only was the boy hideous but also completely useless. _This_ was mighty blessing Agni had gifted the Fire Nation? He wasn’t even a firebender! What use did he have other than to be paraded around the public like a show pony-calf? Not that he’d ever allow anyone outside the palace walls to see this reptilian embarrassment. Ozai would be made a laughingstock. It was as if the only thing notable about the child was the fact that he was spirit-touched. Everything else was meaningless. Once the novelty wore off, all Ozai would be left with was a freakish disgrace of an heir. 

He sighed for a third time. Perhaps the boy’s status as a “blessing” was Agni’s apology for giving him such a worthless offspring. Just another consolation prize to the second-born.

The child stared up at Ozai with a clarity too intense — too quiet —for a newborn. Ozai glared back.

It appeared to be effective because the child’s face scrunched up and flushed red, eyes brimmed with tears. A hesitant whimper. A sudden cry. Loud and irritating.

Ursa sat up with a sharp inhale, seeming to return to herself at last. She beckoned Ozai to bring her the infant. Ozai frowned but begrudgingly did so.

_This quivering mess, this monstrosity was supposed to be his legacy? Iroh sired a skilled firebender for a son, but Azulon’s second-born only received a repulsive babe that cried at the first sign of authority?_

_Disgusting._

_Zuko,_ he thought, watching the creature weep into his mother’s chest. _An apt name indeed._

He barely heard his wife mention that this was the first time Zuko had made a noise.

He needed the boy gone. He wanted to take pride in the fact that Agni had selected his bloodline to bless the Fire Nation, but he held no pride for this creature. Why couldn’t the Sun Spirit have chosen _him_ instead? Not this unsightly thing. _He_ was supposed to be Agni’s favored! _He_ was supposed to be Azulon’s crown heir! Not Iroh, and certainly not Zuko.

He would not be a mere inkblot on the grand scroll of Fire Nation history. He would not be remembered only as Azulon’s second-born. He refused to concede defeat. He was Ozai, Son of Ilah and Fire Lord Azulon, Prince of the Fire Nation! Soon-to-be ruler of the four corners of the Earth! He would conquer the heavens and carve his name amongst the stars, even if that meant conquering Agni’s supposed Chosen as well.

Time stretched by at a snail’s pace.

The boy grew over the years, but his spark did not. Ozai didn’t understand.

The dragons were meant to be wise and strong, fierce and resilient. A Phoenix-dragon should be all of that and more! So why was his son so weak and useless? Why did he cry and tremble like a foolish coward? He’s supposed to be blessed by Agni and yet he couldn’t even bend fire, like the worthless runt he was! 

Didn’t he know what was at stake? ~~Ozai’s~~ _the Fire Nation’s_ glory depended on this boy being a powerful bender. And yet, here he was: on his hands and knees, hunched over and whimpering like an idiot over a silly bruise forming on his cheek.

He needed Zuko to be stronger, to stop being so useless. Otherwise, how else was he going to show Azulon that Ozai was the one deserving of the title of Crown Heir? 

Why couldn’t the boy just do as commanded of him? What use did he have if he couldn’t firebend!

How was he supposed to show the Fire Lord how much more capable than Iroh he was if his own offspring wouldn’t obey him? Lu Ten was excelling in his firebending katas, yet Zuko couldn’t even produce a flame. Azula was only a year old but even _she_ possessed a considerable spark. So what use did Zuko have? Agni’s blessing? A blessing to do what? Waste Ozai’s time?

The firstborns were always useless. And yet the firstborn was always chosen. Chosen by Azulon, chosen by Agni.

Truly infuriating.

He grabbed Zuko’s arm and took him into the boy’s room. The boy was already three of age, he should’ve learned by now that tears were a sign of weakness. This cowardice would not go unpunished any longer.

Zuko wailed and resisted, pulling his arm hard in a futile attempt to escape Ozai’s grasp. Why couldn’t he just obey for once? The child’s legs fell under him as he could no longer keep pace with Ozai’s strides. The boy begged and cried and swung his limbs in an undignified manner. His wings flapped frantically. His talons extended outward. 

Ozai felt a sudden sharp pain on his right hip and paused. He looked down, still holding the trembling boy’s arm aloft. His royal hanfu had a long tear on its right side. Loose fabric fluttered silently. Severed threads of silk and fine linen fibers glided gently to the ground. Small, wet dots permeated to the surface of the fabric, making the hanfu’s deep red embroidery even darker. A red trickle flowed along little black claws down a bruised wrist.

That impotent brat had stabbed him.

Eyes wide and brow furrowed, he glared at his son and —

Piercing eyes gazed into the depths of his very core. He could not move. He could not breathe. He dared not speak. His chest burned as if a flaming torch had been pressed directly onto his lungs. Visceral tendrils, velvety and viscous, clawed at his arms, coiled up his chest, and caressed his neck like a noose. Needles and knives pricked his face like crawling fire ants, biting beneath his skin. He was choking. He was dying. A vast and cavernous void stole his breath and filled his being with emptiness. A pressure — no, a presence — colder than the grave and hotter than the sun, stared into his soul and found him lacking.

He had to run. But running was the coward’s choice.

He had to fight.

A bellowing roar erupted from the deep recesses of his throat. Blood thundered in his ears with every thumping pulse as he was overwhelmed with indignation. A high-pitched ringing resonated sharply in the back of his skull. Red and white flashed across his vision until he could not see anymore. His eyes ached. His hands felt wet.

And then he blinked.

The pressure had vanished. Gone were the visions of… _what even was that?_ What had he been doing?

He looked down and saw blood. 

Zuko’s body sagged to the ground, charred, shivering, and barely clinging to life. His bruised and broken arm hung limp in Ozai’s grasp; the only thing preventing the boy’s head from slamming into the ground. The smell of smoke and copper permeated the air. Ribbons of blood curtained down the walls like a crude tapestry. The only sound was Ozai’s deep breathing and Zuko’s shallow wheezing. Sputtering out sharply, quietly. Until the boy became silent and still. He released Zuko’s arm. The boy’s head hit the ground with a wet sound.

What did he do? He didn’t want this. Zuko was supposed to be his ticket to gaining the Fire Lord’s favor, he wasn’t supposed to —

An eruption of flames interrupted his thoughts. Hot and quick with a blinding white. Ozai raised a blood-splattered arm to shield his eyes from the light. It emanated from Zuko. The child’s body was consumed by the fire. Did this mean the boy finally had a spark? Was Zuko finally a firebender?

But wait, it couldn’t be from Zuko. Zuko was dead. Ozai had killed him.

As quickly as it came, the fire vanished. Zuko’s body was gone as well. Both his corpse and clothes had been incinerated, leaving only a pile of ash and smoldering cinders in its wake. What was —

The ash moved. Something …tiny, smaller than his hand, was fidgeting and pushing its way out of the dying embers.

It was a… bird? No, a baby lizard-chick. A scale-covered, four-legged lizard-chick with eerily familiar wings. It couldn’t be…

“…Zuko?” He forced out, body tense. The trembling creature looked up at him with recognition and trepidation.

Impossible. 

Right?

Suddenly, a memory struck him. A faded wisp of a dialogue Fire Sage Shou mentioned in a conversation Ozai only half-listened to. Phoenix-dragons couldn’t die but instead rose from their ashes, born again. It would make sense that a phoenix-dragon born would have that type of immortality as well.

He began to laugh. Truly, the Spirits worked in mysterious ways.

Phoenix-dragons were strong and ferocious creatures. This must mean that since he’d sired one, he was an even stronger being! Of course! It all made sense now!

Maybe it wasn’t that Zuko was so weak, but rather Ozai was already so powerful. Maybe that was what Agni was trying to show him by giving him this monster to defeat.

_He_ was the one destined for greatness! _He_ was the one deserving of glory and praise, not his bumbling older brother!

Iroh may have killed the last _normal_ dragon, but Ozai had slain the only phoenix-dragon! A creature far more powerful than Iroh’s. Power begets power, so of _course_ Agni would select his bloodline to be chosen. So that _he_ could shine ever brighter by comparison. He just needed to train the boy to be stronger, that way whenever he bested Zuko, Ozai would get stronger too. And soon no one would be able to defeat him, not even Agni himself. Everyone would see the true glory of Ozai. Then they’d have no choice but to see that he was the proper heir; that he should be made Fire Lord. 

Maybe the boy had some use to him after all.

* * *

Years passed since Zuko’s birth and Prince Ozai couldn’t have been any more disappointing.

Not that any of the royal servants would say that out loud. But they all knew. They all saw the hand-shaped bruises on the young Zuko’s wrists. They saw the finger-long burns on his neck. They noticed the way he flinched and winced in shame at his own reaction when someone got too close too soon.

Ozai had forbidden his son from leaving the confines of the castle. Only the royal family and the household staff knew of Zuko’s true appearance, but everyone in the Fire Nation had heard that their prince was Agni-blessed. And they loved him. He was theirs just as much as they were his. 

So why did Prince Ozai think it was within his right to lay his hands on that child? His own son! Agni’s Chosen! It was as inconceivable as it was infuriating.

The staff was forbidden from commenting on what was happening behind closed doors. It further angered them that the man refrained from harming his son in front of the Lady and Fire Lord. As if ashamed of his own actions and knew them to be wrong, but still doing it anyway. He even went so far as to _praise_ Zuko in their presence for the very things he had chastised the boy for in private. The Koh-damned, two-faced coward.

Whispers in the kitchen said that Ozai was doing this to “toughen the boy up”. Rumors in the dining hall said that it was punishment for Zuko not being a firebender yet. The immediate response to both statements was an admonishing “he’s only three”, and the conversation ended. No one wanted to point out that Ozai didn’t show such “careful attention” to the young Princess Azula.

And so, the staff and guards took turns watching the growing Zuko. Providing the toddler comfort and a helping hand, but ultimately unable to stop Ozai.

The servants loved Zuko and his kind heart. Inside and out, the child was beautiful. Handsome in face, especially with the adorable baby fat, and joyous in spirit. As the young prince learned to speak and walk, they watched over him. They loved how he knew them all by name and greeted them in the halls. They loved the little chirps and purrs he made whenever he played with the turtleducks and bumble-birds in the garden. They loved that when he got really happy, his tiny wings flapped excitedly and his eyes and scales sparkled in the sunlight.

They all adored their boy to pieces, but they were too afraid to speak out when the royal prince slapped his four-year-old son for dancing with his mother. When he was punished for being “too loud”, “too emotive”, “too much”. For being a toddler and not a weapon.

They also didn’t comment on Ursa’s willful ignorance either. Most of them couldn’t tell if she was aware of her surroundings half the time. The woman seemed to have checked out mentally for two years, only to briefly return to read theater scrolls and dance around in her room. Even though dancing had been illegal since the reign of Sozin. They had noticed that the Lady appeared to be getting better now that young Azula was born, but she still had her moments.

Whenever Prince Iroh and Prince Lu Ten came to visit, the kinder servants debated amongst themselves if they should tell the eldest royal about young master Zuko’s ever-growing list of injuries. The more bitterly resigned staff members placed bets to see how long it would take the man to see the boy’s predicament on his own. 

Months passed and the servants didn’t know how much more they could take. Every few days Ozai would drag his son into the prince’s room and slam the door. The guards stayed silent but hung their heads in resignation. As time passed, the banging of tiny fists on the walls got softer, the thuds of a small body hitting the floor quieted down, but the screams got louder. Prince Zuko would cry and apologize and beg and they couldn’t do anything but listen.

A few weeks ago, one brave soul finally intervened. A young woman named Yua. She had recently been hired as one of Ursa’s new maids. One morning, she ran into the kitchens and cried in righteous anger about her hatred and fear of Ozai’s cruelty towards his four-year-old son. She ranted and raved about how sweet young master Zuko was to her and the rest of the staff. How she had watched as he sat and played with his little sister, arms and legs covered in burns and bruises, and how everyone was too spineless to do anything to stop it.

They did not defend themselves against her insults. They knew that what she said was true. Nevertheless, they tried to console the woman. Warned her of the dangers of speaking out against the Fire Prince. That his cruelty knew no bounds. If he had no qualms harming his own son, he’d have no trouble harming a nameless servant as well.

But she didn’t listen.

And so it came to pass that the next time Ozai grabbed his son and dragged him into the boy’s room, Yua stormed in after. The guards did not stop her. The doors closed behind her.

Never had silence been so loud.

A moment passed.

Then another.

The doors opened again. Ozai walked out.

Yua did not. Zuko did not.

A message went out that night to the staff that Yua’s cousin had caught ill and she had returned home promptly. Furthermore, the two guards who let her in the room also had separate family emergencies that had needed immediate attending-to. No one believed it. But no one spoke of it again.

When Prince Zuko turned five, he started asking questions no one had the courage to answer. The head chef, Cho, muscled down his grimace into a neutral stare when young Zuko asked him if he knew why his father didn’t like him. The gardener, Aito, failed to hide how his voice cracked when the princeling apologized for needing help rewrapping his bandages. The tea server Li Mei’s eyes grew heavy with tears when she overheard the young master ask the vacant Lady Ursa if the reason mother was sad was because father was hurting her too. She had to excuse herself from the room when Ursa’s expressionless voice responded with, “what do you mean, Zuko? Your father loves me. He’d never hurt me.”

But they all still gathered in the dead of night. Watching. Listening. Hearts weary with self-loathing and regret. They sat together in bitter camaraderie over their complicity. 

_Was_ this _what the Fire Nation stood for?_ Someone asked.

_So much for dignity and honor,_ another responded.

* * *

Zuko was six when Lu Ten came over to play. Even though Iroh’s son is six years older than Ozai’s son, the two were attached at the hip whenever they met. Coincidentally, Himari thought to herself, Ozai had chosen to leave Zuko alone the whole week prior, so most of the young prince’s more revealing bruises were gone. Any of the ones that remained could be explained away as roughhousing. 

The two boys were running around in the garden, feeding turtleducks and playing tag. Prince Lu Ten wasn’t bothered by his cousin’s scales or wings, nor was he intimidated by Zuko’s status as Agni’s Chosen. He cheered watching Prince Zuko use his talons to climb trees. He smiled softly when he helped the boy preen his wings. His eyes sparkled watching the little princeling’s scales glimmer in the afternoon light.

Himari called them inside for refreshments. The cousins raced down the hall into a quiet room where a tray of tea, sweet rolls, and fire flakes awaited them. She smiled as she watched the young princes joke and giggle, lightly shoving one another. Lu Ten tousled Zuko’s hair. Zuko’s arms wrapped around the older boy’s neck in a tight hug.

Serving the young princes was always a delight and the time she spent watching them eased her spirit. It wasn’t until Lu Ten bumped into the tray and knocked over a teacup that she felt dread bubble up in her chest. 

The room stilled. Both boys stared at the shattered cup. After a moment, Lu Ten chuckled sheepishly and apologized, but Zuko was still staring at the spreading puddle on the floor. His eyes wide, scared, and unseeing. Himari wanted to move. She wanted to reassure the six-year-old that he was safe. But she remained frozen by the walls.

Lu Ten must have misinterpreted Zuko’s fear of punishment as a fear of injury and gave a light-hearted “it’s alright” and “no one got hurt, see?” But Zuko just stared. Then he started to weep. Himari wanted to hug the little boy tightly and shield him from pain. From the man who made this child hurt so deeply. Yet she stood uselessly in the far corner of the room. Still and somber, like old furniture waiting to be thrown away. 

How worthless was she?

Zuko was frantic and inconsolable, and Lu Ten was forced to witness his six-year-old cousin’s genuine terror. Zuko cried and begged for Lu Ten to flee. To hide under Zuko’s bed. To tell Uncle Iroh that it was Zuko who broke the cup, not Lu Ten. That Lu Ten was a good boy, and good boys don’t get punished, so Zuko could take Uncle’s punishment. That is was fine, because Zuko was used to it.

And Lu Ten looked so scared and confused. He was only twelve, he shouldn’t be forced to do deal with this kind of fear. The older boy looked up to Himari. His eyes hoped that the conclusions he was drawing in his mind were wrong. That his little cousin wasn’t saying what he thinks is being said. There was as much denial as there was dread in that boy’s expression. And he looked to Himari for answers. 

And all she could do was bow her head in shame and remain silent.

Remain complicit.

And when Prince Zuko finally cried himself to sleep, Prince Lu Ten did not allow her to help carry the child to his room. So she bowed deeply, walked over to the still-spreading puddle of cold tea, and began picking up the shards. Her eyes did not raise from the floor.

She didn’t need to see the older prince’s face to feel his condemnation.

* * *

“Father, is Uncle Ozai a bad man?”

Iroh didn’t know what brought about Lu Ten’s question, but he was certain choking on his tea was not the appropriate response. He placed the tea on the table, trying not to drop the cup as he suppressed his coughs. He sat up from his cross-legged seiza and turned to stare in bewilderment at his son’s determined frown.

“What do you mean, Lu Ten?” Iroh watched as some of the boy’s determination melted away. Barely-concealed unease took its place. His darling son hesitated, eyes shifting between his father and the wooden floor tiles. His lightly-calloused fingers fiddled and clutched the sides of his pants (an action the boy started in an attempt to pacify his old nail-biting habit). His shoulders shuffled slowly in that endearing way they did whenever he gathered his thoughts. 

A voice in the back of Iroh’s mind told him that a prince should never be this forthcoming with his emotions. He reminded the voice that Lu Ten was still a child and was allowed to act as such.

Iroh beckoned his son to sit with him and poured the boy some tea. Lu Ten sat down and accepted the cup. He stared at the tea with a look Iroh couldn’t place.

“What is the matter, my son,” he asked. He didn’t want to interrupt the boy’s musing, but Lu Ten’s question had him concerned. His son looked hesitant but appeared to steel his nerves.

“…I think — Uncle Ozai…or maybe. I’m not sure…Little Zuko was…and I couldn’t—” The child grew more tense as he stumbled over his words. Speaking was always harder for the boy whenever he got too nervous or excited. Iroh smiled lovingly and placed a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder. His thumb rubbed calming circles slowly as the boy looked up to him.

“Breathe, Lu Ten. It’s alright. There is no need to rush.” He gestured to his teacup with a smile. “The best way to drink tea is while it is still hot. Drink, my son, and take a moment to collect your thoughts. We have time. Whatever you need to say, I will listen.”

Lu Ten seemed to be reading his face for something. What that thing was, Iroh did not know, but Lu Ten appeared to find it. The boy’s shoulders relaxed and he took a steady sip. He paused, put his cup down, and took a deep breath.

“I dropped a teacup earlier today. It broke.” Iroh watched a faint blush paint his son’s cheeks pink. “Little Zuko got really scared.”

Iroh pondered this for a moment. Even the shortest of sentences could tell the grandest of tales. _I dropped a teacup earlier today. It broke._ Based on Lu Ten’s rising tension, he could only presume his son was coming clean about a wrongdoing. _Little Zuko got really scared._ Young Zuko was still very small for his age, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the loud sound of shattering ceramic startled the boy. But he watched as Lu Ten sat next to him, nervous but firm.

Joy and admiration swelled in his heart for his son. Lu Ten must have recognized that he did something that made Zuko feel bad and wanted to right his wrongs. He was taking accountability for his actions and seeking to better himself. He was so proud of his darling son.

“There is no shame in learning from your mistakes,” Iroh spoke. “You are still growing and maturing, Lu Ten. Accidents are bound to happen from time to time.” He took another sip of tea. “If you apologize to Zuko, I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”

Lu Ten still looked unassured. His brows remain slightly furrowed, shoulders stiff with obvious tension.

“But Little Zuko sounded really scared. And he started to cry.” Lu Ten worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Then he started to say all this stuff about being punished and how it was _his_ fault that the cup broke, not mine. But we both knew that I was the one who bumped into it! I didn’t know what to do, and he was so _scared_.”

Iroh listened as his son recount his tale. Lu Ten must have really been shaken up by his cousin’s tears. Even as an infant, Zuko rarely cried, so he could imagine how startling it must have been to witness. He took another sip.

“Fear can make people say and do a number of things, especially for our loved ones. It is not too great a leap to presume that Zuko was worried about you receiving discipline for a genuine mistake and was offering to take the blame in your stead. An action ultimately unnecessary, but nonetheless noble. A willingness to protect others is an admirable trait for a prince to have.” Iroh hummed sagely his son’s look of contemplation. “But do not fret, my child. Neither I nor your uncle would ever seek to harm you or your cousins. You made a mistake. You will learn, and you will grow stronger in your knowledge.”

“R-really?”

“Of course! No mortal being is infallible. Everyone makes mistakes, I know I certainly do. Even the young Princess Azula is known to error from time to time.”

At the mention of his three-year-old cousin, Lu Ten’s face scrunched up. Tension vanished from his frame in an instant. 

“What mistakes could Baby ‘Zula possibly make? She just sits around and doodles with Aunt Ursa all day.”

Iroh unleashed a hearty chuckle. “Do not forget there was once a time when you were that small, my boy.”

His son laughed and the two of them sat together and reminisced. Tea was poured out and shared between father and son. And Iroh felt at peace.

But in the dead of night, he laid in bed unable to sleep. His mind remained restless as he thought about the things Lu Ten had told him. He remembered the fading bruise on a five-year-old Zuko’s forearm that he had noticed but dismissed at the time. He thought about how deathly silent the palace halls were now, compared to the lively hum he had known from youth. He thought about the calculating glances some of the royal staff would give him as he passed by; not particularly menacing, but just waiting for him to do… _something_. But he didn’t know what.

Bending the candles’ flame out with a sigh, he tried to drift off into sleep.

_Is Uncle Ozai a bad man?_

Why did his son ask him that? What did he think Ozai would do to them? His brother may be rude and had a bit of a temper, but he was never malicious or cruel. Ozai loved his family! He was always prattling on about his first-born being Agni’s chosen and his second-born already possessing an incredibly powerful spark.

Perhaps Lu Ten’s thoughts were muddled by the nervous musings of a child. He was only twelve, after all. His imagination probably led him to some interesting conclusions during a stressful situation, nothing more.

And with that last thought, Iroh fell asleep.


	3. Choices Being Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sibling bonding time! ft. Azula uncovering castle secrets.

“What are you doing?” Six-year-old Azula stared at the scene in front of her with open curiosity and barely concealed concern. Her brother was sitting in the garden, shirtless. In his hands was a bundle of bandage cloth, the majority of which was wrapped rather poorly around his chest and wings. She knew that Zuko was rather clumsy and often got injured. But from what she could tell, he appeared unharmed, so what was he trying to accomplish?

“Just binding,” was the oh-so-informative response from Zuko. She walked over to his side, watching him struggle to untangle his hands from the fabric.

“Why?”

“Father says that my wings are getting in the way of my katas. Said that they’re preventing me from being able to firebend properly.” Zuko’s face scrunched up into a pout. His hands were getting more ensnared in the cloth by the second.

She chuckled jokingly. “And here I thought it was your dum-dum brain getting in the way.” She quickly ducked out of the way of an elbow headed towards her ribs. She merrily laughed when he realized that his arms were bound together and the force of his own attempted jab sent him plummeting face-first into the grass with a thud. “My point exactly.”

Azula watched with glee as her hog-tied older brother struggled to right himself. After a good minute, she finally took pity on the boy and got him situated. “I don’t see how your wings could make you a worse firebender. Weren’t these given to you by Agni? You know, the Spirit of the Sun and Flame? If anything, you should be a master firebender by default, or something.” She crouched down and started unbinding his hands.

Zuko’s shoulders tensed as his brow furrowed. He looked down at the ground. “Yeah, well… I’m not a master,” he choked out. “I can’t even bend yet, so what does it matter what Agni gave me?”

She paused and looked at her brother. She was two years younger than him, but he always looked so small. Azula had recently had a growth spurt, allowing her to catch up to Zuko’s height. At this rate, height would just be another thing she surpassed him in. 

With his wings and scales, and overall blessed-ness, people tend to say that he looked grand and majestic, but really he was tiny for his age and very thin. And Azula knew how shy and awkward Zuko actually was. 

She didn’t like his tone when he talked about himself, nevertheless she pondered his question. 

“…Well, maybe it has something to do with how Agni blessed you? Or what Agni blessed you with exactly.” Zuko looked up at her, confusion sat prominently upon his face.

“What?”

“I mean,” she said, irritated that she had to explain herself, “the Fire Sages said that Agni gave you the attributes of a phoenix-dragon, right?” Seeing his nod, she continued. “Well dragons breathe fire, and phoenixes are made of fire. So instead of punching or kicking flames from hands and feet like a person, maybe you breathe flames. Or maybe you just spontaneously combust! Could you imagine the looks of terror on your enemies' faces if you charged down the battlefield, body covered in flames but not burning?! They’d call you ‘Wildfire Zuko, the Phoenix-dragon Prince’!”

She laughed at his grimace. He always made such stupid faces. 

“I doubt that’s how Agni wants me to bend.”

“So? Who cares how Agni or Father or _anyone_ wants you to bend? They’re _your_ flames aren’t they?” She could tell that he was confused by her observation, but at least he was still considering her words. 

“But I was blessed by Agni. Aren’t I supposed to be the embodiment of Agni’s will, or something?” Zuko sounded unsure as he said this. “Or, at least, that’s what Uncle told me. I was chosen by the Spirits.”

“Chosen to do what, exactly?”

Zuko turned his face away, dejected and tired. “Who knows,” he sighed.

Azula looked down in deep thought. Her face, still chubby around the cheeks from baby fat scrunched up in concentration. “Well, maybe you’re just not a bender?” And there was nothing wrong with that if it were true. She’d still love her big brother to pieces if he was a non-bender.

But Zuko looked angry—no, frustrated. “No!” He shouted. Golden irises still stared at the grass. His wings puffed out in agitation. “I _know_ I’m supposed to be a firebender! I can feel it in my core.” She noted that he looked even more miserable than when he was hog-tied on the ground earlier. He started to curl into himself. “I can feel it… the flames are there. I just don’t know how to make them come out.”

She hated the way his eyes dulled when he got upset. This kind of sulking was unacceptable. “Well, cheer up Zuzu! Maybe I can help you practice.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “My teachers say that I’m really good at bending, so I’m sure I can help!”

Zuko finally looked up at her, a shy smile cautiously formed on his face. “Really?”

“Yeah! My teachers say that I’m a…uh…” Azula could feel her cheeks flush red. What was that word they called her? “Prot-uh-jai?” She thinks that what it was. But Zuko’s smirk told her that she must have gotten something wrong.

“You mean ‘prodigy’?”

“Yes! That one! I’m a prodigy, so I can show you how it’s done. Please, Zuzu?” Zuko chuckled softly at his little sister’s proud grin of determination.

“Sure, ‘Zula. Okay.” She couldn’t contain her cheer of excitement.

As she sat down next to Zuko, she enjoyed the tranquil moment between them. The sun was still high and the warm breeze felt like a hug. She closed her eyes and listened to the soft rustling of maple leaves, the faint buzzing of bumble-birds, and the occasional quack of baby turtleducks. Her body swayed gently to the symphony of nature around her. She placed her hands in the ground to steady herself. The blades of grass felt soft under her fingertips. She could tell that her brother was just as relaxed next to her as she was with him. She would never say that she was lonely. But with her being so advanced in her studies and Zuko being dragged away by Father to do…Azula didn’t even know what (Father and Zuko refused to tell her, not that she’s bitter or anything) — Azula didn’t often get to hang out with her big brother. 

Father was always busy talking to noblemen and generals. Grandfather was only ever focused on the war, so he would never visit their section of the castle. Uncle Iroh was leading troops and Lu Ten was still in military school. And Mother…. 

Needless to say, Azula missed spending time with Zuko.

She opened her eyes. She noticed that even though Zuko seemed relaxed, he was still staring at the binding fabric with a calculating look.

“Do you really need to tie down your wings?” She asked quietly, not wanting to break the peace between them.

“It’s what Father wants.” _But what do you want?_ she doesn’t ask.

“Do you know how to bind them?”

“No.”

Azula thought for a moment. “Mother might know. Didn’t she used to be an actress? Maybe she can help?” Even though she brought it up, she was immediately filled with doubt. And based on the hesitant look Zuko gave her, he had his doubts too.

“…Maybe,” Zuko spoke cautiously. “Is she… Is today a sunny day or a cloudy day?”

Azula recalled the code that the siblings had made when dealing with their mother. A “sunny day” meant that Mother was present in the world. That she was attentive and actually spent time with her children. Mostly reading theatre scrolls and dancing. Azula didn’t care for it like Zuko did, but she liked spending time with her mother. (Even if Mother didn’t always seem to like spending time with her.) A “cloudy day” meant that Mother got lost in her own head. Or, at least, that’s what Ming told them. She’d just lay in her bed and stare out the window all day. She wouldn’t talk, or eat, and barely moved. Like a living doll.

Azula would never admit it to anyone, but cloudy-day Mother scared her.

She swallowed. “I snuck into the kitchens this morning. Li Mei was talking to Cho. She said that Mother was lighting scented candles in the room when she came in to serve tea.”

Zuko nodded, a sharp exhale escaped through his nose. He slowly sat up and grabbed the cloth off the ground. “Okay.” Holding the bindings in his right hand, he held out his left for Azula to grab onto. “C’mon, Zula. Let’s go see Mother.”

Azula smiled as she grabbed her brother’s hand tight. The two siblings ran quickly out of the garden and down the halls. It was a game they played together. Azula wanted to see how fast they could go, Zuko wanted to see how far they could get without bumping into anyone or anything. She laughed seeing the guards smile and roll their eyes in exasperation. Racing past the servants, she heard fragments of sentences like “at it again”, and “running” and a startled “shirtless!” But she maintained her stride.

As they ran towards their mother’s bedchambers, they passed the children’s bedrooms. Azula didn’t like Zuko’s room. It was cold and dark and smelled like ash. Every-so-often Father would take Zuko into his room and a sunny-day Mother would drag her into her room and style her hair. A cloudy-day Mother would just hold Azula’s face while lying in her bed. Azula thinks that it’s an excuse to cover her ears, but she can still hear Father yelling down the halls. She doesn’t know what he does in Zuko’s room, but it leaves a stone in her gut thinking about it.

She was taken out of her thoughts when they reached their mother’s bedchamber. The siblings nodded to one another and stared at the door. A hesitant knock. A clear response. A sigh of relief. A door opened.

Ursa, their mother, was dancing again. Scented candles flickered along with her as she moved to a song only she could hear. Today was definitely a sunny day.

Zuko walked in first, still holding Azula’s hand, but taking an almost protective stance in front of his sister. Azula almost laughed at the idea of her should-be-a-bender brother guarding his firebender sister from their non-bender mother. It was ridiculous. Cloudy-Mother might scare Azula, but this was Sunny-Mother. Sunny-Mother was harmless, and Azula could take care of herself. Still, she found his instincts sweet.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” Zuko began. The pungent smell of plum blossoms filled the room. If Azula could barely stand it, she couldn’t imagine how Zuko’s sharper senses were handling this. But she pushed the thought aside as she watched recognition ignite in Ursa’s eyes.

“Zuko,” Ursa’s voice hummed out his name like a melody. “Azula.” Her name less so.

“Mother,” Azula greeted passively. The smell was starting to irritate her.

“What brings my beautiful children to my room? Interested in a dance, perhaps?” The tone was floaty like there was no soul grounding the words to a body, but it still made the children tense. Ursa always asked this question and Azula and Zuko always felt like this was a test, but they never knew what the test was for, or if they even passed.

“M-maybe later,” Zuko chimed with an obviously fake smile. But Sunny-Mother never noticed when their smiles were fake. “We actually had a question we wanted to ask you. Or rather, a request for assistance.”

“Alright.”

“Can you help me bind my wings?” He showed her the bundle of cloth in his hand.

Mother paused, eyes becoming slightly more vacant. “Oh. But Zuko, your wings are so pretty. Why would you want to hide them away?”

“Father thinks that it will help my katas.”

She seemed to ponder this for a moment. “Very well.” And so, she sauntered over to her children, patted Zuko on the head, and brought them onto her bed.

Azula watched attentively as her mother delicately tucked in Zuko’s wings, her hands gliding along the feathers, laying them flat to his back, and maneuvering the fabric to wrap around them. She listened to her mother hum a soft lullaby, the song sad but familiar. Soon enough, Mother was finished and Zuko’s chest was bound. The bindings looked sturdy but not too restricting. His back seemed broader now, but once he put on a top, she was sure it’d look fine.

Thanking their mother, they bowed out of the room and closed the door.

“Do you want to try your katas now?” Azula asked. “See if the binding works?”

Zuko nodded and looked down at his wrapped torso. “Meet me in the training room. I’m going to grab a top.”

The royal siblings split up and reunited in the training room moments later. After a quick warm-up and some stretches, the two bowed to one another. 

“Firebending is all about being strong and fierce,” Azula spoke, recalling what her instructors taught her. “Power fuels the flames in your center and your muscles push the fire out through your arms and legs.” She positions herself into a horse stance and begins the first steps of a basic kata. “Every time you breathe, every time you move, you are focusing your power outward as quickly and aggressively as possible. The power turns to energy and the energy turns into fire.”

Zuko nodded reluctantly. “Right.”

Finishing the kata with a stabilizing breath, she turned to her brother. “Show me what you got, Zuzu!”

She watched Zuko take a calming breath before anchoring into a horse stance. Right foot, step. Punch. Left foot, step. Punch. Kick, step. Kick, step. Punch. Punch.

But still no flames.

“C’mon, Zuko! You have to be ferocious! Like a tigerdillo!”

“I’m trying!” And she could tell that he _was_ trying. His forms were all correct, with an appropriate amount of force behind each strike. But Azula could tell that there was still a disconnect between Zuko and his flames. She was getting impatient.

“You have to be angry! Fierce! Feel the fire burning within and let loose!”

“I know, but I can’t—”

“Yes, you can, Dum-dum.” Azula was becoming frustrated. She never struggled this much with her bending, so she couldn’t understand why Zuko was having such a difficult time. Her instructors were strict and unrelenting and she excelled beyond their expectations every time. So why wasn’t Zuko getting it? Why was he struggling? “Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.”

Zuko’s eyes went big with a startled pause. “No! I am!” His breath quickened to a gasp, his kata completely forgotten as he pleaded to his younger sister. “I just don’t understand—”

“What’s there to not understand?!” Azula knew she had a short temper, but she still felt bad getting mad at Zuko. She paused, took a breath, and really looked at her brother.

He was scared. And he was looking behind her.

She whipped around to see Father watching them practice. _Oh, it’s just Father_ , she thought. She bowed as he approached the tatami mats.

“Zuko,” he spoke sternly. “With me.” She couldn’t see what expression her brother was making in that moment, but she saw his body tense up from the corner of her eye.

Father and Zuko walked away, leaving the young Azula alone in the training room. She refused to say that she was upset about this. But with a pout, she waited for a few minutes before leaving the room as well and headed to the kitchens.

* * *

Azula may be young, but she was very smart. Six years old and already a prodigy firebender. Her teachers say that she’s very advanced in her studies, far ahead of her big brother. That didn’t mean that Zuko was stupid (even if he acted like a dum-dum sometimes). She just knew that she was very intelligent. She also knew that the royal staff was hiding something from her, and she thinks it had something to do with Zuko and by extension, Father. 

She’s seen the way they watch over her brother with an attentiveness they don’t give her. With Zuko, they look at him like they know something bad is going to happen to him. With Azula, they look at her like they know she was going to do something bad. She hated it.

She made a habit of sneaking into the kitchens and dining halls and servants’ quarters, trying to uncover what they wouldn’t tell her. But so far all she’s learned is that the servants were very afraid of Father.

Why?

Father was great. He didn’t often visit her since he was focused on talking to his connections of nobles and admirals, or training Zuko, but she loved the time she got to spend with him. He was always proud of her accomplishments. He smiled when her teachers sang her praises. If he had time, he’d sit with her and show her maps of territories and troop locations, or tell her war strategies or of battles won. 

Zuko was always getting attention for being Agni’s Chosen, but she cherished her time as Ozai’s Chosen. Father always made time to train her in a new technique he thought she could master, or encouraged her to go beyond her limits. Because he believed in her. Sure, it would hurt a lot in the moment, but in the end, she was better and stronger than ever!

She also noticed that over the past few months the servants were growing scared of her too. 

But that didn’t matter right now, because a number of servants were gathered in the kitchen and Azula was hiding in the lower cupboards. Normally, she couldn’t get close enough to actually hear the whole conversation, but she had snuck in and waited until the staff congregated here. She wanted to know what was going on in her home, and she wanted to know why no one would tell her what was happening.

She didn’t know the names of all of the servants or guards — she wasn’t Zuko — but she did know a few. Li Mei, the servant, and Cho, the head chef, were familiar, and so was Lee, one of the guards she’d come to know. There were at least twenty bodies mingling in close proximity in the kitchen, talking over one another in a hushed whisper.

A woman — Azula thinks her name to be Himura, or something — raised her hand to silence the crowd. 

“Ozai’s visits are getting more frequent,” the woman spoke in a quiet tone.

A voice in the back spoke softly. “We know, Himari” _Himari!_ That’s _what her name was._

“Before, it was once every couple of months. Now, it’s practically every other day!” Another voice chimed.

A man near the front spoke up, “Well what do you suppose we do? We can’t just confront the prince.”

“Yeah, remember what happened to Yua?”

“And Jing?”

“Or Mao?”

Voices continued to build on top of one another. Azula watched from the safety of her hiding spot as these men and women grew more uneasy regarding something Azula didn’t have context to. They were talking about confronting a prince, and they mentioned Father by name. Why would they confront Father? And what visits did they mean? And who were Yua, Jing, and Mao?

“Enough!” Cho yelled. With how much everyone had been whispering before, she worried for a moment that the shout would end the conversation. That this meeting was top secret and they would all get in trouble if they were caught. But since no one was dispersing, she figured no guards would think twice about the head chef yelling orders in the kitchens.

She watched Himari nod a ‘thank you’ to Cho and continue the discussion.

“You’re right. We can’t confront Ozai.” Himari seemed to pause for dramatic effect as she saw people nod in agreement. “But we could try talking to the Fire Lord.”

A groan of fear and displeasure reverberated throughout the kitchen.

“We already talked about this,” a man interjected. “We can’t talk to the Fire Lord.”

“Yeah, Himari,” a woman nodded. “He’d never believe us.”

“To accuse a member of the royal family of committing a crime—” 

“Especially without evidence—”

“The wounds heal too fast.”

“He’d never testify—”

“And _he’d_ never confess!”

“And how do you know the Fire Lord isn’t just like him?”

The voices were getting louder again. Cho silenced them once more.

Himari looked tired, like she had had this argument many times and knew she couldn’t win, but refused to give up.

“I know, okay?” She pleaded. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But there’s a chance that the Fire Lord will listen if we all testify.”

“Or he could accuse us all of a conspiracy to overthrow the prince.”

“The Fire Lord cares about his citizens!”

“The Fire Lord wouldn’t care about a bunch of nobodies like us!”

“But he’s supposed to protect Agni’s people! That includes Agni’s Will!”

“You and I both know that the Fire Lords haven’t cared about Agni’s will in a very long time.”

“The Fire Lord certainly doesn’t care about his family!”

“They live in the same property and he never visits!”

“He only cares about winning the war!”

The crowd was even louder than before. Cho seemed to struggle to get them all to calm down this time.

“So what, then?” Himari asked. “If we don’t do something soon, it’ll never stop until that boy is dead.”

What?

“Agni would never allow that to happen,” Lee finally spoke.

“Agni seems to have no problem allowing all of this to happen though!” Himari swept her arms out as if to show a situation Azula didn’t know about. But everyone else seemed to understand.

What was going on?

Himari continued, “Agni brought Zuko here to do something and I doubt it was to suffer like this.” Zuko? They were talking about her brother? “If we can’t confront Ozai, and we can’t testify to Azulon, then do we just sit here and let Prince Zuko get hurt every day?”

Cho looked to Himari with a look of disdain. “That hasn’t stopped us before,” he muttered.

Azula didn’t know her eyes could widen even further. What did they mean? What was happening to Zuko? They said he was getting hurt? And Father had something to do about it? But that couldn’t be right. Father was great to them. He loved them! 

_Calm down, Azula,_ she thought to herself. _You don’t have all of the context. There had to be some sort of mix-up. Maybe they meant emotional-hurt, like Zuko was getting upset during his firebending training, and the staff was overreacting. Or maybe Father didn’t know or just didn’t believe the staff if Zuko got hurt during training._

_Or maybe the staff is conspiring to hurt Zuko. Or was already hurting him? How long has this been going on? How long had they planned this? They were speaking ill of Grandfather. Was it just Zuko they wanted to take out or was it the whole family? Is that why Mother has cloudy days? Did they already hurt her too?_

Himari’s head snapped up to glare at Cho. “Don’t you dare act high and mighty, you old fool. At least I’m trying to save that boy!”

Azula was genuinely confused. A stone sat in her gut and her chest hurt. She was definitely scared now. She stared in shock and horror as Himari turned back to face the crowd.

“We can’t give up yet. If we do, Ozai is going to kill Prince Zuko one of these days. There’s only a small window of time between his father entering the boy’s room and the Young Master’s wounds healing. Maybe if we time it correctly, we can get the Fire Lord to see the truth.”

“Or maybe we get the timing wrong and Ozai lies and accuses us instead,” Cho countered.

“Well, we need to do something! Comforting the Young Prince after the fact only normalizes the behavior and tells Zuko that we aren’t willing to keep him safe.”

“But what if saving him costs us our life?”

“Then we die with honor!”

“Then who provides for my wife and kids when I die?” Himari looked startled by Cho’s outcry. “I’ve got a family back home that I only get to visit once a year, ‘cause I’m stuck in this castle taking care of everyone’s food. My wife’s too sick to work and all the money I make here gets sent to them, so if I lose this job? Or if I get executed ‘cause ‘Father of the Year’ decided to pin his crimes on us? My family dies too.”

“Cho…”

“So call me a fool or a coward all you want. I’m not risking my life for this fucked-up family any more than I already do.”

“And abandon Agni’s will?” Himari questioned with indignation.

Cho sighed in exhaustion, like his intent to argue had fully fled. “Look around, Himari. Our country’s been fighting the rest of the world for a hundred years while our own people are sick and dying in the streets. Our children are being sent off to fight in a war they’re too young to understand, all for the petty egos of rich men. And the family Agni appointed to lead us? Well, they led us to destruction! Don’t you get it? Agni abandoned us a long time ago.”

Silence befell the room. The crowd was tense and dejected, and Azula wanted to scream.

Why did they keep saying that Father was hurting Zuzu? Why were they lying to her?

_How could they lie to you if they don’t even know you’re here?_ a thought whispered in her head.

But they had to be lying! Father would never hurt Zuko!

_But you’ve seen Father drag your brother away. He did it a few days ago during your training session with Zuko, remember?_

But not to hurt him!

_But how do you know? Father and Zuko won’t tell you what happens in Zuko’s room. Both Sunny-Mother and Cloudy-Mother cover your ears whenever it happens. So how do you know?_

Because Zuko would tell me!

_Why would he? The staff looks at you with fear in their eyes and Mother doesn’t care about you. The only ones that really love you are your brother and father. But if Father loves you but hurts Zuko, then why would Zuko ever confide in you?_

Azula tried not to whimper, but she must have made a sound because the next thing she knew was that she was making eye contact with Himari through the small opening of the cupboard. And then suddenly everyone was staring at her with terror in their eyes. She could see Cho choke on air. She saw Lee clench his jaw in fear. She noticed Li Mei hold another woman tight in her arms with a look of fierce protection. Azula’s eyes watered, but she refused to cry. 

Why did they all look at her like she’s a monster? She crawled out of her hiding spot.

“Princess,” Lee gasped out.“It’s well past your curfew. What were you doing in the cupboards?” His voice was stern, but his eyes betrayed how terrified he was. His shoulders showed his discomfort and his hands shook with anxiety. _Truly, such cowardice was a terrible quality for a guard to have_ , a thought jumped out.

Azula looked out to the crowd of people who raised her. These people bathed and fed and served her and her family for as long as she could remember. These people cared for her mother. They healed her injuries whenever she fell when playing. They told her stories while they cooked and cleaned.

And they also knew that Zuko was being hurt and did nothing.

So why did they act like _she_ was the one in the wrong?

Was it because she was Father’s favorite? They feared Father, so by association they feared her? Or had she wronged them in some way? Was that why Mother ignored her so much? She blinked back more tears and steeled her voice.

“Were you telling the truth,” she asked.

“What?” Lee responded timidly.

“Were you. Telling. The Truth,” she gritted out. “What you said just now. What you’ve been saying this whole time. Was it the truth?”

The crowd looked amongst themselves hesitantly, but Lee just stared at her. He gulped, then blinked once. Twice. And sighed.

“Princess Azula,” he placated. “You shouldn’t concern yourself—”

“What I choose to concern myself with is none of your business.” She interrupted.

“Your Highness, you’re only a child.”

“And so is Zuko, but that didn’t seem to stop you from abandoning your duty to protect your sovereign.” Azula was furious. Did they think she was stupid? A foolish toddler? How dare they do this to her brother! They knew he was being hurt and they stood around and did nothing!

Himari stepped forward between Lee and Azula to interject. “We haven’t abandoned anything, Your Highness. We were just—”

“Stop acting like I didn’t hear the entire conversation!” The woman startled back a step. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

“No, Princess!”

“How long has this been going on?”

“W-what?” Azula was getting tired of repeating herself.

“You mentioned before that Father has been hurting Zuko for some time. How long exactly?”

Himari looked to Cho who looked away with a scowl. She then looked at Lee who looked back at the woman bewildered. “Most of us were made aware of the…situation when the young prince was around the age of three.”

Azula stared in disbelief. “…Zuko is eight.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“You knew that my brother was in danger… for five years?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And you did nothing this whole time?!”

Li Mei stepped forward, the woman she had been embracing clasped her hand tightly, trying to pull her back to safety. “We didn’t do _nothing_ , Princess,” she interjected pleadingly. “We would watch over the prince as best as we could and comfort him when he was upset or hurt and—”

“Do you really believe that absolves you of your actions?!” Azula roared. Smoke emanated from her clenched fists. Her eyes burned with righteous fury. “That you would hold the moral high ground?! You console my brother — your prince — after he’s been abused, the same way you’d comfort a sheep-pig before a slaughter. You all disgust me.”

“Princess, we—”

“Why hasn’t the Fire Lord been made aware of any of this?”

Cho’s frown deepened, still glaring off into the middle distance refusing to look at anyone. “You were the one eavesdropping, your highness,” he growled. “You know why.”

Cho was a tall, muscular man. Heavyset in stature with hands bigger than Azula’s head. Normally, he was a quiet, stoic man who spoke more through his cooking than any verbal dialogue. But tonight, he seemed to have no issue speaking his mind and baring his teeth, ready to bite. Azula may have only been six, but she was royalty, and she was determined to see justice achieved. And she had no problem biting back.

“Watch your tone, peasant. I may be young, but I am still your superior, and you will treat me with respect.”

“Or what? You’ll run off and rat us out to Ozai?”

Azula tried not to flinch, but there was no hiding the confusion and fear in her wide eyes. “What? Why would I—”

“You are Ozai’s favorite, after all. Who’s to say he didn’t send you in here as a spy?” The moment the accusation left Cho’s lips, the crowd’s fear tripled. 

“You can’t say that, Cho,” a voice shouted out in reprimand.

“What does it matter?” Cho spat out angrily. “Our heads were already on the chopping block the moment Princess Azula came into this room!” He pointed at Azula in condemnation, like she was the problem.

Before, the servants were just tense, but now many were cowering. Bodies trembled where they stood, eyes begging her not to hurt them. Begging Azula to not tell her brother’s abuser information that everyone except her had already known. Begging her not to be the monster they all seemed to believe she was.

Those that weren’t petrified stared at her with a strange look in their eyes, like they were preparing themselves for something. And she suddenly remembered one of the lessons Father taught her about reactions to fear. Some people run and some people freeze up, and some people fight back. At the time, she had cherished the lessons she had with her father, but now, it left a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her heart.

Azula wasn’t sure how to properly describe what she was feeling at that moment. Betrayal from the crowd that raised her. Indignation from Cho’s accusations. Sorrow for her brother’s pain. Anger at her father who caused it. Guilt for being loved by her father when her brother wasn’t. Guilt for having enjoyed being Father’s favorite, before she knew the truth. Angry with the crowd that they kept Zuko’s pain a secret for five years. Angry that they were planning on keeping it secret for years to come just to save themselves. Angry and sad and guilty that they thought she’d allow this to continue. Betrayal again. More anger. More sadness. Too much guilt. The emotions clawed at her ribs and left gashes in her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. 

Himari took a step forward and Azula took a step back. The servant raised her hand as if to strike out and Azula was too scared to do anything but flinch back and close her eyes. But the woman had not been heading towards the princess, Azula realized when a loud crack followed by a heavy thud silenced any noise in the kitchen. Azula blinked her eyes open at the sound to see Himari’s knuckles bright red and Cho’s body sprawled out on the tiled floor. Cho grasped at his bleeding nose with a muffled grunt and struggled to lift himself off of the ground. It seemed the punch had rattled his brain too much because he stayed seated. 

The woman panted and her hands shook. Adrenaline left her body quickly at it came and she looked tired. If Azula wasn’t so scared, she would have been impressed.

Himari watched Cho’s disoriented fumbling coldly and callously. “I knew you were a fool, but I didn’t think you were an idiot too,” she said. She then turned to look at Azula with a softness she’d only ever seen Zuko give her. “You really didn’t know what was happening to the young master, did you?”

Azula could feel her throat close up, but she forced out a steady “no, of course not”.

Himari’s eyes got even softer and sadder. “I’m very sorry you had to find out this way. We thought that you had already known. We weren’t sure if you were like us and forbidden from discussing it out in the open, or if…” She paused.

Azula felt the indignation burn once more in her gut. “Or if you thought I was like Father? That I would get some sort of sick pleasure out of tormenting my big brother? Of course you thought that. I _am_ Ozai’s favorite after all,” she scowled bitterly.

Himari eye’s watered at the jaded words and hesitantly placed a hand on Azula’s arm. A disgustingly futile attempt at comfort. Was this what they provided Zuko? What good did that do?

“We meant you no disrespect—”

“No, you only meant to turn a blind eye to the abuse happening right under your nose.”

Himari looked ready to cry. “We’re trying to come up with a plan—”

“You had five years to come up with a plan!” Azula smacked Himari’s hand off of her, sparks surging out of her tiny fingers. “You’ve known about this for years and all you’ve done is stick your heads in the sand!”

“We’re doing the best we can!” Himari wept. Tears poured down her flushed cheeks. The crowd of servants looked at the woman with pity. Lee looked ready to jump in and console her. 

“No! The best you could have done was tell the Fire Lord the truth. Not hide behind empty platitudes of ‘we comforted the prince after the fact’. You all stand here, patting yourselves on the back from a job well done. Meanwhile, my brother is left suffering? You’re all worse than cowards. You’re traitors! I should have you all banished.”

The crowd became even more terrified, but Azula was too furious to care at this point. These people allowed her brother to come to harm and were now trying to convince her that they did nothing wrong. It was disgusting. 

“No, Princess, please!” Lee cried out. “We love the little Prince, we do! But Fire Lord Azulon would have never believed us! We would have been killed!”

“So rather than risk the consequences of an honorable death, you’d simply stand aside until your prince died at the hands of his father?” And wasn’t that a terrifying thought for Azula to have. If she had remained ignorant, would Zuko have just vanished one day? Would Father lie to her face about what he did? Would Mother stay cloudy forever after Zuko disappeared? Would Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten never visit her again? Would they blame her for her inability to save him?

“It’s not a risk if it’s a guarantee, your Highness.”

“Do you really believe the Fire Lord would allow this to continue if you told the truth?”

Lee sighed in resignation. “I’m not sure if you noticed this, but Prince Zuko’s wounds heal completely within a few hours of him being injured. The time it’d take us to get permission to enter the Fire Lord’s section of the castle AND convince him that something was wrong, any evidence would have disappeared. Ozai would lie through his teeth and Zuko wouldn’t testify against him. It’d be the word of peasants versus the words of the Fire Lord’s son. We’d never win.”

“Then you try again until you get it right.”

“We would have been arrested for falsely accusing a member of the royal court after the first attempt. And since it would be the prince we accused, we’d be executed for high treason.”

“Then why not let _me_ talk to the Fire Lord?” Lee and Himari blinked incredulously at Azula’s question. “It’s simple when you think about it. I’m the Fire Lord’s granddaughter. Not only would I be allowed entrance into his chambers fairly easy, but he’d definitely believe what I’d have to say.”

The crowd stared at her in disbelief, whether it was because they were shocked she’d offer to help or because they were confused as to why they didn’t think to do this before, she didn’t know and didn’t care.

Li Mei’s eyes filled with hope. The woman holding her back still stared at Azula with trepidation. “S-so, you’ll help us?” Li Mei asked.

“No, I’m helping Zuko,” Azula answered tersely. 

With that said, she brusquely marched out of the kitchen and down the hall. She knew that Grandfather would listen to her. He just had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments! You have no idea how encouraging they are!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I apologize for any inaccuracies regarding the lore of Firebending or the practices of martial arts. I know firebending is based on Northern Shaolin Kung Fu but I'm only familiar with Kyokushin Karate. I tried to be vague about the katas and techniques to avoid misrepresenting any cultures or customs. But I'd still love to write more about it in the future.
> 
> If any of you have information about this style of martial arts, feel free to let me know in the comments. I'd really appreciate it.


	4. Equal and Opposite Reactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula and Azulon talk. Ozai has some opinions on the matter. Zuko gets stuck in the middle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: discussions regarding violence against a minor, effects of emotional manipulation, and gaslighting.

Azula wasn’t really surprised by how unfamiliar she was with this part of her home. She and Zuko played games exploring the depths of the fortress, but they were forbidden from entering the Fire Lord’s section of the palace without permission and supervision. The Fire Nation palace was six stories above ground with two floors below (and that didn’t even include the hidden tunnels), so the two siblings had had a lot of ground to cover. She’d never been disheartened by the visitation restrictions until now.

She was worried that she’d get lost along the way, but Azula was nothing if not determined to see this through. Her brother was in danger and she was the only one able to save him. She had to find the Fire Lord.

Maintaining a steady pace, it only took Azula about twenty minutes to climb up the numerous staircases and traverse the seemingly endless corridors. Vertical inclines weren’t something she had trained her legs to handle yet, but she mentally added it to her future conditioning regimen. Her legs ached and her chest burned as she reached the top of the final staircase. The feeling of exhaustion was nothing new, but she still took a moment to catch her breath. She used that moment to come up with a game plan.

She had been confident in her declaration to the staff that the Fire Lord would listen to what she had to say. But she was smart enough to know that convincing her grandfather to believe her words would be an uphill battle.

She’d never admit that she was afraid to talk to her grandfather. She’d only ever seen the Fire Lord in his war room during ceremonial gatherings or seated at the head on the royal dining table once a year during the Fire Festivals. Confronting her nation’s figurehead in his bedchambers after curfew was uncharted territory.

She stood at the end of the Fire Lord’s corridor. Carved marble pillars stood tall like shining beacons atop dark wooden flooring. Each column was spaced perfectly from the next, a black tapestry hung confidently in between them on the walls. Lavish banners hosting the national insignia decorated the tall ceiling. Fluttering flames danced upon gilded torches, leading Azula right to a set of large wooden doors. A colossal depiction of two dragons was etched into the wood. If she hadn’t been in a hurry, the princess might have praised the intricate detailing of the artwork, but there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Two men guarded the enormous doors. The man on the left had a deep grimace carved onto his face while the man on the right looked far too exhausted to function. The guard on the left spotted Azula fairly quickly. His eyes tracked her as she made her way down the hall.

“Halt! Who goes there,” the stern man’s voice questioned. His tone was not appreciated. Nor was his lack of basic reasoning skills. She knew that she rarely interacted with the Fire Lord’s personal staff, but surely they should be able to recognize their own country’s monarchs. Frankly, she was a bit disappointed. Her resentment towards Himari and Cho and the rest of her family’s servants was still brewing in her mind and now she had to deal with the incompetence of her grandfather’s staff as well.

_You really can’t find good servants these days, huh?_ She thought to herself.

“I was lead to believe that guards were supposed to bow before their royals,” Azula mocked. “Or was your oath of fealty just for show?” 

The guards both blinked at her for a moment before recognition filled their gaze. She rolled her eyes in response to the deep bows she received from the two men.

“Princess Azula,” the guard on the right spoke reverently. The exhaustion still sat heavily on his face, but his eyes were bright and cheery. “What can we do for you?”

“You can start by opening these doors. I seek an audience with my grandfather, the Fire Lord.” She made sure to keep her voice resolute and her posture keen. She would not be backing down from her quest anytime soon. Judging by the tensing of their shoulders and the unsure glances the guards gave each other, Azula could tell that they were going to be difficult.

“Forgive us, Your Highness,” the tired man placated, “but Fire Lord Azulon has already turned in for the night. If the matter could wait until tomorrow, we’ll be sure to inform His Majesty first thing in the morning.”

“This is a matter of great importance. It requires immediate action.”

“Then, perhaps I could be of assistance?”

“This is an issue far above your pay grade.”

The man’s body language screamed his desire to pacify the princess’ wishes, but all his words did was fuel the girl’s agitation. “Maybe your mother or father could help —”

“What part of ‘immediate action’ did you fail to comprehend?!” Azula was starting to lose her temper. “If this was something my parents could fix, then I wouldn’t have climbed all of these stairs to speak to the Fire Lord, would I! Now. I order you to let me in, or I’ll have you banished.”

The two men looked to one another once more, this time with a look of reluctant acceptance. The stern guard nodded to his partner. The tired guard bowed his head with a stifled sigh and turned towards the door.

“Please wait here a moment, your Highness.” The man knocked three times before opening the door. He disappeared into a pitch-black room with a swift click of a closing door.

A moment passed. Azula stared at the door, making sure to keep track of the other guard’s location in the corner of her eye.

Several moments passed. Silence permeated the mostly vacant hallway. No sound came from the room beyond the grandiose doors. She was starting to get irritated with the wait. A voice that sounded awfully similar to her etiquette training teacher rang in her mind, obnoxiously reminding her to remain quiet and patient. But her protective instinct for her big brother was raging in her heart to burn down the doors and demand the Fire Lord’s attention.

She could feel the flames from the torches faintly dancing towards her, the embers burning brighter than they had before. She saw the guard’s hands clench into fists and his shoulders tense.

Coward.

She closed her eyes and took a calming breath. Azula was a prodigy firebender. She can control her flames and her feelings. She would not succumb to her emotions any more than she already has. The Fire Lord would not listen to her if she seemed compromised.

Releasing a deep exhale, she reopened her eyes just in time to hear the door handle click open. The heavy wooden door slowly creaked open revealing the tired guard once more. The man looked down to Azula with a tense smile.

“Lord Azulon has granted your request.” The guard awkwardly stepped to the side of the door, allowing the young princess entrance. “His Majesty will see you now.”

Azula stared into the barely-lit bedroom. The interior was large but mostly covered in shadows as only a single flickering candlelight pierced through the darkness. She could not immediately see her grandfather.

Azula swallowed. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and her hands started to itch. She interlocked her fingers to repress the urge to fidget as a chill shot down her back.

_You can do this, Azula_ , she thought. _Zuko needs you_.

Taking another calming breath, she stepped into the room, determined to save her brother.

* * *

Zuko didn’t normally get to dream. Sleep often eluded the young prince, his thoughts too loud and frantic to allow him a moment’s peace. The sleep that he did manage to get tended to be anything but restful.

But that night Zuko had the most bizarre dream. Waves of blues and gray swirled by in a blurry haze. A deep white fog blanketed on top of his person. No, not a fog. Something denser. Colder.

Snow?

Zuko looked down at his hands. The skin was darker than his pale complexion, and a tad bit rougher than his normally were. These fingers didn’t have talons. He pulled up a blue sleeve to reveal an equally dark arm.

No scales.

Why would he have scales? He’d never had them before.

Right?

He felt his hands moving. His right hand grabbed something solid and sharp and curved at an angle. The material was sturdy but it wasn’t stone or steel.

His left hand reached up to his collarbone. Something thin and soft was wrapped at the base of his neck. A pendant was attached. Without moving, his hand clasped onto another object. It was cylindrical and rough like parchment. He looked down and saw a rolled-up scroll. A blue symbol marked the bottom, but he couldn’t read it.

A voice in the distance called out to him. It wasn’t Zuko’s name, but he recognized it as his own. Zuko couldn’t understand what the voice was saying, but it felt familiar. He didn’t know who the voice belonged to but it felt safe.

It felt like home.

Home?

Where was home?

A flash of white sunk him into a new environment. Towers of browns and greens plummeted into the earth. The ground trembled around him, but Zuko was calm. Nothing would harm him here.

Zuko felt smaller. The world is hazier than before. Rather than the white billowing openness of the previous space, this was a dark, suffocating plane. Everything was hard to see, but that’s okay. Zuko didn’t need his eyes to see this world.

The ground trembled again, this time slower. Steadier. A soft purr rather than a mighty roar. The vibrations felt warm under his feet.

Had he always been barefoot?

His clothes were different. The fabric felt softer. Longer. The silk felt familiar.

A robe? No, a dress.

A slender hand pulled his ankle out from under him and forced him into a seated position. Something was being placed onto his feet.

Shoes?

The world got darker. Fuzzier. Like trying to hold a mound of sand in your hands; nothing stayed in place for very long.

A voice spoke to him. The tone was reprimanding. Tender, yet demeaning. Zuko didn’t like this voice very much.

He tried to stand up but another hand grabbed his wrist and kept him in place. This hand was bigger than the one on his ankle.

Another voice joined the first. Both were familiar but Zuko was growing irritated. He couldn’t understand what they were saying, but it felt insulting. He couldn’t recognize who the voices belonged to but they felt like a cage.

Zuko wanted to leave this place.

But where would he go?

His vision flashed white again. Yellows and oranges danced like leaves in a breeze. He felt like he was flying. But he knew his wings weren’t moving.

Wings? Why would he need wings? He didn’t need those to soar through the sky.

Right?

He had packed a bag. He didn’t know where he was going, but his mind had been made up. A large beast grumbled beneath him. His hand reached down to pat his friend’s head.

He called out in a voice that was familiar but not his own. He and the giant creature took off into the night sky.

He felt free. He felt burdened. He was nervous, ashamed, indignant. Scared.

The wind was a comfort.

The wind was getting harsher. The night sky was getting darker. A rush of blue and black surged out from down below. The sky was crying. Screaming. Howling. The blue was getting closer. The winds were getting faster.

He was screaming.

He was terrified.

He was falling. Down, down.

A crushing weight hit his ribs. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe.

This wasn’t what he wanted.

“—uko?” Something heavy was holding his arm down.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“Prin— Zu—” It was shaking him.

His body glowed white.

“Prince Zuko!”

Zuko shot awake. A cold bead of sweat slid down his temple. His chest hurt and his lungs begged for air. He felt like he had been running Father’s training course all day. Why was he—

“Prince Zuko?” Said prince’s eyes snapped up to his left. A female guard was standing by the side of his bed, her hand resting on his shoulder. Her eyes were apologetic but a soft smile graced her expression. His dazed mind tried to place a name to a face.

“Anzu?” Based on her smile finally reaching her eyes, he’d been correct. Or maybe she was laughing at the way his sleep-riddled voice cracked.

“My sincerest apologies for waking you, your Highness. But the Fire Lord has requested your presence into his Majesty’s chambers.”

Zuko stared at Anzu in confusion. _Grandfather wants to speak to_ me _?_ He thought. _Did I do something wrong?_ The young prince looked down at his sleep clothes, the fabric slightly damp from sweat. He looked back to the guard.

“Can you help me change into something more…appropriate?” His voice sounded rough in his ears. A part of him felt disconnected from the sound like it wasn’t fully his own anymore.

Anzu’s smile grew. “Of course, my prince.” She looked ready to help him out of bed, but she must have seen Zuko shy away from her hands because she paused and stood up straight. He watched as she walked quietly over to his dresser. “Any preference, your Highness?”

Zuko yawned and quickly shuffled out of bed. “The ceremonial attire might be too much? Or maybe… Did Lord Azulon say why I needed to see him?”

“I’m sorry, Prince Zuko. He only ordered that you be brought to his bedchambers as soon as possible.”

Zuko thought for a moment. The clothes that he’d normally wear on the rare occasions he saw his grandfather would be more respectful but take too long to put on. Making the Fire Lord wait would be seen as disrespectful. Hopefully, his grandfather will excuse his less than perfect appearance. “A nice hanfu should be fine.”

Anzu nodded and grabbed the garments. Zuko began to remove his night clothes. The bindings made his chest ache. Anzu paused when she saw his wrapped torso.

“Are you injured?” She stared at the bandages, her face showcased a mix between scared and angry. But it wasn’t pointed at him, so Zuko wasn’t too concerned about it.

“No, I just need to keep my wings tucked away.”

That seemed to awaken a different look in her wide eyes, but he couldn’t place the emotion. “You… sleep with your chest bound tight?”

“Yes?”

“Every night?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that…” Anzu paused once more, seeming to catch herself from stumbling over her words. “Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but isn’t that… painful?”

Zuko shrugged. Sure his chest felt sore, and sometimes it was difficult to breathe with the wrappings on, but his katas were getting better! It didn’t matter if his back burned when he moved too much or if his feathers felt wrong. If it meant becoming a firebender and ~~making Father proud of him~~ helping the Fire Nation, he’d do whatever was necessary.

“Not really.” He responded.

Anzu hesitated, but seemed to snap out of her thoughts and began dressing the prince. Fully dressed and hair adequately groomed, he and his guard rushed up the many flights of stairs to the Fire Lord’s room. Zuko was too nervous to take a good look at this section of the hall. It felt strange to him that entrance to this area was normally prohibited, but here he was: getting an invitation in the dead of night.

At the end of the hall, he saw two more guards standing in front of the Fire Lord’s bedchambers. Zuko recognized the older, grimacing man on the left as Li Jun and the younger, physically-drained man on the right as Daichi. The two men spotted the prince and Anzu and greeted them with a bow and nod respectively. The boy smiled a hello back to them.

Daichi turned to the dragon-engraved doors and knocked three times. A deep muffled voice responded and Zuko was allowed to enter.

The prince bowed before stepping into the room. The chambers were just as magnificent as he’d imagined. Deep reds, glittering golds, and vibrant oranges danced in the candlelight. Banners hosting their beautiful nation’s insignia hung proudly from the ceiling. Golden statues and gilded armors and decorative swords adorned the walls. Zuko felt giddy just looking at them. But he suddenly spotted three other figures in the room with him.

To the right was his little sister, Azula. She looked upset. Her arms were crossed in that way they get when she’s both angry and scared. She was still dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing the previous day, causing Zuko to realize that she hadn’t gone to bed yet. What was she doing here?

To his left stood his Father, Ozai. His posture looked calm, but Zuko could tell by the curve of his eyebrow and the tension in his jaw that he was furious. He was in a different outfit from the last time the boy had seen his father, meaning he too had gone to bed but was awoken by this unusual summoning.

Standing between them was his grandfather, Lord Azulon. The Fire Lord was dressed in an elegant robe. Zuko hadn’t spent enough time with the man to be able to read his expression. His mouth was marred with a deep scowl but his eyes were neutral. But this was what his grandfather normally looked like, so Zuko couldn’t be sure if the man was angry or not.

All three of them turned to face the young prince. The boy wasn’t sure what to do or what this meeting was for, so he bowed once again to his Fire Lord. He hoped he hadn’t messed anything up.

“Rise, Prince Zuko.” Lord Azulon’s voice was just as powerful as Zuko remembered. The prince did as he was told. “It is uncommon for meetings to be held in my bedroom, but an unfortunate matter has been brought to my attention.

“While I was amidst my slumber, I was awoken and informed by one of my guards that my granddaughter, Princess Azula, demanded to speak to me at once. I, upon accepting this ‘request’, was allotted a tale of misery and subterfuge. And it seems _you_ , Prince Zuko, are at the crux of it all.”

Zuko’s eyes widened in confusion. His gaze drifted back and forth between his sister and his grandfather, being sure to keep his father in his peripheral at all times.

“Have I done something wrong, my lord?”

Azulon’s cold eyes stared into Zuko’s, binding the boy where he stood. “That has yet to be determined. But I sincerely doubt it.” The man sighed, his face sinking further into a grimace. “According to Azula’s words, she overheard dialogue amongst the servants that your father has been causing you unnecessary harm. While I am normally hesitant to heed the drivel of peasants, she was adamant that they were telling the truth. It is been tasked to me to get to the heart of the matter and resolve the issue at once.”

Lord Azulon turned to Azula. “Princess Azula, recount your testimony. On what grounds do you base this accusation? ”

Azula gave a quick bow. “Of course, my lord. I had been observing the servants and guards for quite some time and had noted their reactions to certain situations. They seemed hesitant. Secretive almost. I wished to know what they were planning. I found out that many of them were having meetings in secret late at night. I uncovered the location of their rendezvous point and learned what they were discussing.” His sister bowed her head slightly. Her eyes looked to her brother. “They said that Father, Prince Ozai, was abusing Zuko.”

Zuko didn’t think his eyes could widen any more than they had, but apparently he had been wrong. His head felt faint. A chill crawled up his back. What was going on? He didn’t understand. But before he could process that statement, Azula continued.

“At first I thought they were lying or joking, but they were serious. They genuinely believe Father is harming my brother. When I confronted them, they were adamant that they were telling the truth. And… I started to believe it too. I’ve watched Zuko as well. The flinching, the bandages, the pained screams coming from Zuko’s room. I can’t help but believe something bad is happening to my brother right under our noses, and I won’t stand for this any longer.”

His sister’s voice was steady, but Zuko could tell that she was scared. She’d never admit it to herself though. But he couldn’t understand what she was talking about. It was too much. Too absurd. Too—

“And what do you have to say in your defense, Prince Ozai?” Grandfather’s voice interrupted Zuko’s spiraling thoughts. The boy looked over to his quiet father.

Quiet was not a word that he’d normally use to describe his Ozai. But there he stood, stoic and dignified. His eyes burned with righteous fury and indignation. The man’s seething eyes stared down at his son, the force of his gaze made the boy’s skin prickle.

The young prince had noticed a while ago that his father seemed to always force himself to make eye contact with Zuko. Like he was afraid for some reason. But that was silly; Father wasn’t afraid of anything.

Finally, Ozai looked to the Fire Lord, smiled, and spoke. His voice was slick like grease and as sharp as a knife. “My lord, this is nothing more than an unfortunate series of misunderstandings. I have nothing but the utmost care and admiration for my heirs. My duty as both a father and a representative of the Fire Nation is to prepare my children for the realities of the world as best as I can. My youngest, Azula, is already a gifted tactician and prodigy firebender worthy of the title of Fire Princess. But while my eldest is excelling academically, he has been having some… difficulties accessing his flames. The Fire Sages said that he _should_ be a firebender, but his spark is barely present.”

“I am well aware of what Fire Sage Shou said at Prince Zuko’s birth. _I_ was actually there.”

“…Yes. Of course. Zuko asked for assistance in cultivating his fire into something stronger. As his father, I merely wished to lend a helping hand to my son. Given the fact that he is Agni’s Chosen, I could not just allow _anyone_ to train my son, so I had taken it upon myself to oversee a significant portion of his upbringing. I wouldn’t expect mere commoners to understand an accelerated training regimen such as the Sozin Method, and Azula’s never had a need to train using such a technique, so I can see where the confusion stems from. ”

Azulon watched Ozai speak with a calculated stare. Zuko didn’t know what any of it meant. But Father’s words sounded both foreign and familiar. His tone was something he had never heard before. Humble, yet posturing. Beseeching, almost to the point of condescending. It reminded Zuko of the two voices from his dream earlier.

The words were something the boy was more used to. Father was very clear about his training plans for Zuko. It was because he was blessed by Agni that he had to push past all of his limits, even when it hurt. Even when it felt like he was dying.

It was what Agni wanted.

Father said that he was chosen by the spirit for a reason, but his spark was still too weak to handle the flames. _Zuko_ was too weak. That’s why Father had to ~~waste his time~~ focus his energy on training the young prince. Because Father cares about him. He wants to help him master his flames so that Zuko can help protect the Fire Nation one day.

Lord Azulon looked between the smiling Ozai and the agitated Azula. Back to Ozai. “And what of the supposed flinching, bandages, and the… ‘pained screams coming from Zuko’s room’?”

“Despite my best attempts to get the boy to socialize more, Zuko is still terribly shy.” Ozai chuckled softly. “Honestly, he’s just like his mother, choosing to stay in his room studying in his free time rather than meeting new people. He’s even started to become insecure about his scales and wings, hence the bandages. Even now, his chest is wrapped to hide his feathers. I’ve done my best to ease his worries, but I am only one man after all.”

“And the screaming?”

“Children are prone to tantrums from time to time. Merely another stepping stone to being the father of such a strong-spirited child.”

“…Yes. A terribly shy, strong-spirited child.” Zuko watched as his father paused at that remark. His grandfather’s eyes narrowed to a condemning glare.

His father blinked the comment away, his smile barely wavered. “The mind of a child is such a temperamental thing.”

The room was as still as a corpse. Zuko couldn’t help but stare at Ozai in silent confusion. Was Father in trouble? Was Zuko? There was a moment’s rest before Lord Azulon turned to the young prince.

“And what have you to say on the matter, Prince Zuko?”

Zuko stared up at his grandfather. Three sets of eyes stared back.

He licked his lips. “Father does his best to train me. I’m not…” He felt his cheeks flush red as he looked down. “I’m not a firebender yet, but I know I should be. He’s been helping me…” He wasn’t sure what more he needed to say.

“Do you believe your father is causing you unnecessary harm?”

Unnecessary? Everything Father does is necessary. Zuko’s just too weak to properly deal with it. Yes, the training hurts, but that doesn’t mean that Father is hurting him. That’s ridiculous!

“No, your Majesty.”

“Do you feel unsafe in his presence?”

Zuko didn’t think he felt safe in _anyone’s_ presence! He could probably say that he felt okay around Azula, but even she had her moments of temper. She’d never hurt him, but seeing her mad made him feel… Either way, everything scared Zuko, so it doesn’t make sense to only focus on Father!

“I’m fine around him.”

“Do you ever feel like his methods are too extreme?”

“No, your Majesty. Father is doing his absolute best to help me be better.”

“Did you ask for him to help you by means of this curriculum?”

He couldn’t remember how this all started. Some of his earlier memories were a bit blurry ~~or missing~~ , but as far back as he could recall his training had always been this intense. Maybe he had asked Father for assistance when he was younger? It was possible. Or maybe Father just saw how much of a failure Zuko really was and took the initiative to help out. He couldn’t remember. Surely he had asked Father, right? He must have.

“Yes, I did.”

His grandfather observed his movements, analyzing his face. “And are you satisfied with the results thus far?”

“My katas have been improving.”

“…I see.” He turned to face Azula. “Princess Azula, when did you become aware of this… situation?”

Azula had been glaring at Ozai during the questioning. She blinked at the sudden attention drawn back to her. “Earlier this evening, my lord. I wanted to inform you as soon as possible.”

“And to your estimate, how long had the servants been discussing this matter?”

“Years. It's impossible to say for certain, but several admitted to knowing since Zuko was three years old.” Zuko wasn’t sure why, but hearing that made his chest hurt.

Azulon nodded grimly. “Their testimonies will be needed as well.”

Ozai looked momentarily confused. “For what reason, my lord?”

“They too are witnesses to the comings and goings within the castle. Though they are simple common folk, they are essential to resolving this matter.”

“But—”

“You have told me the truth?” Azulon stared hard at his second-born son.

“Of course, my lord.”

“Then you have nothing to fear from their accounts.”

Ozai took a small step forward. “My lord, is this truly necessary? You have already heard from both my son and I that this has been—”.

“You would dare question your Fire Lord?” Azulon interjected, evidently tired of the older prince’s disrespect. Ozai took a step back, once again situated in his original spot. “My mind has been made Prince Ozai, and my decision on this matter is final. Guards!”

Daichi and Li Jun rushed into the room, bodies poised and ready for action. Azulon turned to address them. “Gather all of the servants, guards, and stablehands of the castle and take them to the throne room.”

The two men nodded and bowed on their way out. Azulon turned back to his family. “Prince Ozai, you are to wait here until further notice. Prince Zuko, Princess Azula. Come with me.” With that, the Fire Lord marched out of his room and down the hall,his two grandchildren racing after him.

Zuko stole a glance at his sister but she refused to look at him. She looked so angry. Was she angry at Father? Zuko? Herself? He was so confused. Why would Azula ever think that Father would hurt him? Father loved them! Even Mother said so! Sure he was strict and hard to please, but only because he had their best interests at heart. He wanted them to succeed.

But Azula just ignored his gaze. So Zuko did what he does best: he put his head down and kept his mouth shut.

They went down one flight of stairs and across two halls. Along the way, they passed a number of guards. With a wave of his hand, the Fire Lord signaled to the staff to follow the trio. The group got larger by the minute. They eventually came a set of golden doors. Zuko recognized them as the entrance to the royal throne room. Two guards that the prince didn’t know yet opened the door for the Fire Family. They walked in, the staff reluctantly bowed in after them.

Azulon sat in a prestigious seiza at his throne. He beckoned for Azula and Zuko to join him. The boy once again looked to his sister, but she marched stoically to the Fire Lord’s left side, bowing before kneeling into a seiza as well. Zuko was dismayed. His heart ached at the dismissal, but he swiftly stepped forward. He approached his grandfather’s right side, bowed, and kneeled into a seiza too.

The guards that followed the Fire Family down the halls stood silently awaiting orders. After a few moments passed, the golden doors reopened and a little over 80 people in various states of nightclothes shuffled into the room. Maids, guards, servers, cooks, and stablehands stood before their rulers, fear and apprehension present on each of their faces.

Lord Azulon commanded them to sit down, then waited for a moment. His booming voice echoed throughout the throne room. The flames bowed and danced to every syllable he spoke into existence. “As servants of the royal household, it is your sworn duty to protect and serve the Fire Nation and uphold Agni’s will to the fullest extent of your capabilities. Likewise, as Fire Lord, it is my sworn duty to protect and govern the citizens of the Fire Nation and uphold Agni’s will to the fullest extent of my capabilities.

“It has been brought to my attention that there is an unprecedented concern amongst some members of the staff, the proceedings of which I request your assistance to resolve.”

Zuko watched from his seat as the staff looked amongst themselves, some confused, others apprehensive. He kept observing them even as the Fire Lord continued.

“I am certain many of you are already aware of what exactly I am referring to. Your testimonies have been requested. Should you have information pertinent to this issue, come forward now.”

A hush fell over the room. The only sound to be heard was the shuffling of fabric as the seated staff turned their heads to look at one another. Zuko waited with bated breath as Himari stood up. Following her was Lee. Then Li Mei. Aito. Izumi, grasping Li Mei’s hand tightly. Yee. Ming. Anzu. And soon almost half of the staff was standing up. They appeared to be the majority of servants and guards that oversaw the duties of Zuko, Azula, and their parents. The remaining staff that was still seated were a few stablehands that rarely entered the depths of the castle, or Azulon’s personal staff, mostly guards.

Zuko didn’t know why, but a stone sat heavy in his stomach. His chest felt cold. He had recognized everyone that stood up. He had made an effort to get to know these people and bond with them. And they return his gesture by accusing his father of hurting him? Why would they do that? He was so confused.

“I do not value dishonesty, but perhaps you did not understand me,” Lord Azulon declared. His eyes pierced deep into the crowd before him. “Withholding information from your sovereign will not warrant you any favors. If you have been a witness or have relevant information regarding the matter at hand, come forward. Now.”

Who was he talking to? Zuko tried to track his grandfather’s gaze. His eyes lead him to a man seated in the very back of the crowd. There he saw an agitated head chef, Cho. A large purple bruise was stamped against the left side of his face. His nose looked a bit crooked. The tall man slowly stood up, an unrelenting scowl was etched into his battered face.

No one else got up. Almost 30 people stood at attention. The remainder sat awaiting instructions.

The Fire Lord looked to Azula. “Was this everyone,” he asked.

“Yes, your Majesty,” was her response.

Azulon stared down at his people with a neutral expression. “Good. Those that came forward are to be arrested and sent to the Boiling Rock. Guards!”

A flurry of panic seized the room. It was all happening so quickly. Zuko was helpless to do anything but watch as Lord Azulon’s guards grabbed and handcuffed the screaming and shouting servants. Those that tried to run were tackled to the ground and bound. Those that tried to fight were beaten or burned. He could not see her, but he could tell Azula was just as shocked and scared as he was watching this carnival of chaos unfold.

Himari’s wide eyes couldn’t hide the betrayal. Her arms were chained together behind her back. A guard was pulling her towards the doors, but she was resisting. Screaming. She looked unhinged. Vicious. “Why are you arresting us?!”

Azulon calmly studied the frantic woman before him. His expression gave nothing away. “Treason.”

Her eyes widened further as she shrieked, “we are your loyal servants!”

“Your loyalty was lost the moment you believed a crime was being committed within these sacred walls and chose to do nothing.”

Her devastation was abundantly apparent, but Azulon was not finished. “Do not look so shocked. You all conspired together, believing that there was a plan to allow Prince Zuko, Agni’s Chosen, to come to harm. You turned your backs on your nation and showed a great dishonor to the Spirit of the Sun and Flame. And for that, you will be punished.”

Zuko could only sit in stunned silence as the woman was carted off along with the rest of the arrested group. She was weeping. Lee was calling out to her, trying to protect her, but he too was dragged away. Cadences of “wait!” and “please!” and “you don’t understand!” filled the fiery room like a violent serenade, the rattling of chains held the tempo.

Screams eventually quieted down as the throne room began to empty.

Cho was one of the last of the group still yet to be “escorted” out. He did not speak. He did not move. His cold eyes remained fixed on Azula. These eyes professed pain and anguish. They promised blood and burning. Zuko felt his feathers try to puff up in a protective fury, but they were still bound to his back. He felt his claws protract out, cutting into his clenched fists.

Li Jun hurried over to the restrained chef and pulled him back towards the door. It was only then that Cho looked to the Fire Lord and opened his mouth to speak. “I did what I needed to do to protect my family.”

“You should have done what you needed to do to protect your nation. Your dishonor has led to your own downfall. I will discuss this with you no further.”

“You sit upon the ashes of millions and then boast about what is considered honorable. Your callousness will burn your insides like kindling until there is nothing left. May Agni spit upon your charred remains.”

And then Cho was dragged away.

And Azulon did not respond.

The room was silent once more. Any remaining stablehands or servers were dismissed back to their rooms, still concerned and frightened regarding what just took place. Zuko felt just as confused as they were.

Azulon motioned to a guard still stationed in the room. It was Daichi. He approached the Fire Lord with a bow.

“Fetch Prince Ozai and bring him here at once.”

* * *

Azula didn’t know why she was feeling this way. She felt guilty. Angry. Ashamed. Scared.

It hurt.

She had known these people had abetted a crime. She had even accused them of treason herself. So why did she feel this way when she watched the group of conspirators get sent away in chains?

She didn’t know why Himari’s eyes terrified her. She didn’t know why Lee’s cries made her chest burn. She didn’t know why Cho’s parting words felt like a suffocating.

It hurt.

Azula stared forward. She would not move. She could not move. She’d break if she tried.

No one was allowed to see her break.

It hurt.

Zuko had been trying to get her attention for a while now. She wouldn’t look at him. She was mad at him. She was sad for him.

Why did he lie to Grandfather? Why did he pretend that nothing was wrong? Didn’t he understand that Father was hurting him? Surely he knew that what Father was doing wasn’t okay.

Right?

_Did Zuko know?_ she thought. _The servants said that Ozai’s “training” began around when he was three years old. Would Zuko even know any better?_

She finally stole a glance at her brother, but he was staring at the door.

_Does Zuko think the abuse is normal?_

A shiver traveled up her spine. Her head felt faint. The door suddenly opened. Ozai bowed and sauntered in, the door closing shut behind him. His eyes scanned the room, seeming to note both of his children seated on either side of the Fire Lord. He bowed once more to Azulon and kneeled into a seiza. It was the same place Himari had just sat.

Lord Azulon looked at her father in stern admonishment. “I do not take kindly to discourse among my staff. Your actions had more consequences than you seem capable of comprehending.”

Ozai lowered his eyes for a brief moment. “Yes, my lord.”

“Do not allow this to happen again.”

Azula felt a flurry of emotions try to claw their way out of her. Her eyes widened as realization sunk in. She looked to her grandfather, dread stabbing at her heart as her eyes begged him to stop.

“Of course, my lord.”

Her eyes snapped to her father. A serpentine smirk slithered onto his face. His smile made Azula’s skin crawl.

He was getting away with it!

But he couldn’t!

He was going to keep hurting Zuko!

Zuko was going to—

“That being said, your methods of training your son were intense enough to cause over a quarter of the staff to commit treason by abetting what they believed to be a crime.” Grandfather continued. “Whether this speaks to the brutal nature of the training itself or your incompetence regarding proper management of the household staff, it has yet to be determined. Though I can understand how unprecedented the circumstances are, given the spiritual nature of your son, even by Sozin’s standards, an incident such as this has never befell the kingdom before.”

Ozai’s smile dimmed. “Yes, your Majesty.”

“You are in a precarious situation, Prince Ozai. And I don’t believe you fully understand the ramifications your actions could have brought upon us. It is the role of the Fire Lord and his descendants to uphold the Will of Agni and guide the Fire Nation to prosperity. If speculation were to get out that the son of the Fire Lord was harming Agni’s Chosen, there would be a civil war on our hands!”

“My lord, I only wished to teach my son how to access his flames.”

“Then perhaps you are not suited to teach.”

Ozai blinked up at Azulon. “Your Highness?”

“Perhaps it is time for you to learn a thing or two.” With that said Azulon stood up tall and proud. “Ozai, my second-born. You have hereby been stripped of your title as Prince and sentenced to exile on Crescent Island.”

Ozai’s eyes widened in shock. “Wha—”

“For one year, you will live in the Fire Temple and study under the tutelage of the Fire Sages. There, you will be educated about the sanctity of Agni’s blessings and formal customs around spirit-touched individuals. Perhaps then you will learn proper training etiquette and discipline.”

“Your Majes—”

“They will supervise you and report to me any grievance that may arise while you are in their care. For each one I receive, another month will be added to your sentence. Once the conditions are met, you may return with your title reinstated as prince.”

Azula didn’t know what to say. Ozai was getting punished. Ozai was being sent away. For a year, maybe longer.

She didn’t know what to feel. Going by the look on her father’s face, he didn’t either.

“Do you understand the terms of your exile, former-prince Ozai?”

The corners of her father’s mouth curled into a snarl. “Yes, my lord,” he growled out bitterly.

Azulon nodded solemnly. “A guard will escort you to your bedchambers. Gather your things quickly. You will leave once the sun rises.”

Her father stiffly rose out of his seiza and bowed out of the room. He did not say a word as the doors closed.

Lord Azulon then turned to Zuko. The boy’s face could not hide his grief and fear. Surely Zuko would be happy getting to spend time away from their father’s grasp, right?

“Young Prince Zuko,” her grandfather decreed. “It seems your instructors have failed to properly cultivate your skills. Nor has your father adequately ignited your spark, despite his attempts.”

Zuko bowed his head. His face flushed red and his golden eyes dulled dramatically. “Lift your head, young prince. This is no fault of your own. One of my deepest regrets was allowing Ozai to avoid serving active duty. He never learned how to be a proper leader and now it is apparent that he never understood how to be a proper teacher either. He could not train you. For that, you have my sincerest apologies.”

Azulon turned to face her brother, placed his palms on the ground, and bowed deeply. His head almost touched the floor. Azula was shocked, but Zuko looked mortified. The Fire Lord sat back up.

“The Fire Sages and I were unsure of Agni’s intention regarding your firebending prowess. We had come to the decision that the Spirit wanted to guide you personally and that it was best to leave you be. But it seems that this conclusion was wrong.

“You _should_ be a firebender in some shape or form. But your instructors’ methods and your father’s methods have either been unsuccessful or risked snuffing out your inner flame. A more competent teacher will be necessary to bring balance back to your heart. That is why you will be sent to Shu Jing to study for one year.”

Azula didn’t think her heart could sink any lower. Zuko just looked terrified.

“Shu Jing,” her brother stuttered.

“Indeed. While your father will be studying with the Sages, you will be studying as well with Master Piandao. There, he will teach you how to use weapons to defend yourself. Along with being a master swordsman, he is also a skilled blacksmith, cartographer, and calligrapher. I have no doubt that he will sharper your heart as well as your mind.”

Her brother reluctantly nodded. Her grandfather nodded back. “Very good, child. One of my guards will walk you back to your room. Pack your bags accordingly. You will head out once the sun rises.”

Azula was positive that her brother was on the verge of tears. Normally, she’d tease him about how emotional he could be, but in this moment she fully understood his worries.

Zuko had never even been outside of the palace walls before. And now the Fire Lord was shipping him off to another island to live with a stranger. He was probably petrified.

Azula hated this. She wanted her brother to be safe. But why did that mean that he had to leave?

The staff she knew was gone. Father was leaving. Zuzu was leaving. Mother was…

Azula was going to be all alone.

An unfamiliar female guard approached Zuko’s right side. “Hi, Temi,” the prince greeted. Of course Zuzu knew her name already.

“Hello, Your Highness,” the woman responded with a sad smile. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you back to your room. I can even help you pack if you want.” Her movements were slow, unsure. It was like she was trying to appease a wounded animal. But Zuko just looked dazed.

“…Okay.”

And the two shuffled off. Azulon sighed deeply. This was the first time that she noticed a deep-seated tiredness upon his face. Her grandfather’s body looked to ache with exhaustion. She was unsure of what to say or do.

“You are dismissed, Princess Azula.” He did not look at her, but his expression was weary. His tone was sad. “Have a good rest of the night.”

She bowed to her ruler and walked out of the throne room without saying a word. Zuzu was leaving in the morning. Zuzu was probably scared. Azula was scared. She didn’t want him to leave.

It hurt.

She headed to her brother’s room. She hated that place, but if this was the last night she’d get to see her big brother for a year, there was no way that the two of them weren’t going to have a sleepover.

Azula hurried down the halls, hoping to catch up to her brother. She spotted him not too far ahead and charged at his side. The guard looked momentarily startled by Zuko’s surprised squeak but wasn’t shocked by Azula’s sudden appearance, so the girl gave the woman some credit.

“Hey! ‘Zula, get off of me!” And Azula laughed with relief. Zuzu was still calling her ‘Zula. That meant he didn’t hate her. He didn’t hate her for getting him sent away. Zuko gave her a soft smile. “It’ll only be a year. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

The princess nodded reluctantly, hand clutching her brother’s sleeve. The two siblings and their guide traversed through the halls, down the numerous flights of stairs, and into Zuko’s bedroom. They didn’t talk about what just happened in the throne room. They didn’t mention Ozai, or Cho, or the sentencing. They just joked and laughed and told each other funny stories. It wasn’t the last time they’d ever get to see one another, but it would be the last time for a long while.

They wanted to cherish the time that they had left. Tomorrow was going to be different and that made Azula sad. But she had to be brave.

So Azula smiled and Zuko smiled back and she helped her brother pack his belongings. She made sure that Temi helped only when it was absolutely necessary.

And so it was that four hours before the sun was scheduled to rise, the two siblings finally managed curl up into Zuko’s bed and fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twenty-two pages finished, and boy was this a struggle to write! It was worth it though, and hopefully you all liked it :)
> 
> Anyway, I have a Tumblr now! I’ll be posting art and updates about the chapters there as well. I’m still new to this whole set-up, so hopefully it all works out. Thank you all so much for the comments, they are greatly loved and appreciated! Link to Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/good-morning-inc


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